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Things are certainly in a bad shape there. He's on the rocks sure enough, and will go to pieces if we don't come to his assistance, so he says." Garton's reverie was broken by the clear insistent ring of the door-bell. "Confound it!" he muttered, as he rose from the chair, and hurried out of the room. "Can't I have a little peace for one night at least?"
"Oh." There was a great lack of expression in Garton's monosyllable, but as he swung about upon his stool, bending over the box of cigarettes which he swept up, Conniston thought that he saw a little twitch as of pain about the sensitive lips. Not understanding, feeling at once that he would like to say something and not knowing what to say, he went slowly to the door.
"Wants to see you, I guess." The heavy tread came on through the office, and the door to Garton's room was flung open with as little ceremony as the front door had been.
It was only when it began to grow dusk and the boy brought Garton's supper that Conniston got up and went down the street to his own solitary evening meal at the lunch-counter.
"Unwashed," Douglas laughingly interrupted, as he threw himself into an easy chair. "Any more remarks to make, eh? I am afraid your manners haven't improved any more than my personal appearance since last we met." "No, I haven't changed one bit, but you have," and Garton's eyes gazed approvingly upon his companion. "I would give almost anything to be as strong and husky as you are."
For the first time now he saw Garton's body, which had been hidden by the table; saw that Garton had had both legs taken off six inches above the knees. He remembered himself, and tried to hide his surprise under some light remark to Billy Jordan. But Garton had seen it, and laughed lightly, although with a slight flush creeping up into his pale cheeks.
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