"
"Not even a greaser of wheels." admitted Nick modestly. "But you
needn't throw it in my teeth. I suppose you are going to make your
fortune soon and retire--you and Daisy and the imp--to a respectable
suburb. You're a very lucky chap, Will."
"Think so?" said Will.
He was bending a little over his work. His tone sounded either absent
or dubious.
Nick glanced at him, and suddenly swept his free right hand across the
table. "Put it away!" he said. "You're overdoing it. Get the wretched
stuff out of your head for a bit, and let's have a smoke before
dinner. I'll bring her out to you next winter. See if I don't!"
Will turned towards him impulsively. "Oh, man, if you only could!"
"Only could!" echoed Nick. "I tell you I will. Ten quid on it if you
like. Is it done?"
But Will shook his head with a queer, unsteady smile. "No, it
isn't. But come along and smoke, or you will be having that infernal
neuralgia again. It was confoundedly good of you to look me up like
this when you weren't fit for it."
Nick laughed aloud. "Man alive! You don't suppose I did it for your
sake, do you? Don't you know I wanted to break the journey to the
coast?"
"Odd place to choose!" commented Will.
Nick arose in his own peculiarly abrupt fashion, and thrust his hand
through his friend's arm.
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