And as for the
kiddie--"
Nick removed his cigarette to yawn.
"You won't be here all your life, my son," he said. "You're a rising
man, remember. There's no sense in grizzling, anyhow, and you're
getting round-shouldered. Why don't you do some gymnastics? You've
got a swimming bath. Go and do a quarter of a mile breast-stroke every
day. Jupiter! What wouldn't I give to"--He broke off abruptly. "Well,
I'm not going to cry for the moon either. There's the _khit_ on the
verandah. What does he want?"
Will went out to see. Nick, idly watching, saw the native hand him
something on a salver which Will took to the lamp by which he had been
working. Dead silence ensued. From far away there came the haunting
cry of a jackal, but near at hand there was no sound. A great
stillness hung upon all things.
To Nick, lying at full length upon the cushions, there presently came
the faint sound of paper crackling, and a moment later his friend's
voice, pitched very low, spoke to the waiting servant. He heard the
man softly retire, and again an intense stillness reigned.
He could not see Will from where he lay, and he smoked on placidly for
nearly five minutes in the belief that he was either answering
some communication or looking over his work. Then at last, growing
impatient of the prolonged silence, he lifted his voice without
moving.
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