But still, this time in silence, Hough shook his head. From a partially open door leading into the adjoining room the negro's eyes peered out.
Sidwell shifted in his seat with exaggerated deliberation and leaned forward. His dark mobile face worked passionately, compellingly. "Winston Hough," he challenged, "do you wish to remain my friend?"
"I certainly do."
"Then you know what to do."
Deep silence fell upon the room. Not only the eyes but the whole of Alec's face appeared through the doorway. Hough could no more have resisted longer than he could have leaped from the open window. They drank together.
"Now," said Sidwell, "just to show that you mean it, we'll have another."
And soon the enemy that puerile man puts into his mouth to steal his brains was enthroned.
Sidwell sank into his chair, and lighting his cigar sent a great cloud of smoke curling up over his head. Hand and tongue were steady, unnaturally so, but the mood of irresponsible confidence was upon him.
"Since you've decided to remain my friend," he said, "I'm going to tell you something confidential, very confidential. You won't give it away?"
"Never!" Hough shook his head.
"On your honor?"
The big man crossed his hands over his heart in the manner of small boys.
Sidwell was satisfied. "All right, then. This is the last time you and I will ever get--this way together."
Hough looked as solemn as though at a funeral. "Why so?" he protested. "Are you angry with me yet?"
"No, it's not that. I've forgiven you."
"What is it, then?" Hough felt that he must know the reason of his lost position, and if in his power remove it.
"I'm going to quit drinking after to-night, for one thing," explained Sidwell. "It isn't adequate. But even if I didn't, I don't expect we'll ever be together again after a few days, after you go away."
The listener looked blank. Even with his muddled brains he had an intimation that there was more in the statement than there seemed.
"I don't see why," he said bewilderedly.
Again Sidwell leaned forward. Again his face grew passionate and magnetic.
"The reason why is this. I have had enough, and more than enough, of this life I've been living. Unless I can find an interest, an extenuation, I would rather be dead, a hundred times over. I've become a nightmare to myself, and I won't stand it. In a few days you'll have departed, and before you return I'll probably have gone too. Nothing but an intervention of Providence can prevent my marrying Florence Baker now. Life isn't a story-book or we who live it undiscerning clods. She knows I am going to ask her to marry me, and I know what her answer will be. We'll be away on our wedding-trip long before you and Elise return in the Fall." The speaker's voice was sober. Only the heightened color of his face betrayed him.