The Club of Queer Trades
she said. "I need scarcely say what I think of your generosity."
And before our staring eyes could blink she had passed out of the room, Basil holding the door open for her.
He turned to Greenwood with a relapse into joviality. "This will be a relief to you," he said.
"Yes, it will," replied that immovable young gentleman, with a face like a sphinx.
We found ourselves outside in the dark-blue night, shaken and dazed as if we had fallen into it from some high tower.
"Basil," said Rupert, at last, in a weak voice, "I always thought you were my brother. But are you a man? I mean—are you only a man?"
"At present," replied Basil, "my mere humanity is proved by one of the most unmistakable symbols—hunger. We are too late for the theatre in Sloane Square. But we are not too late for the restaurant. Here comes the green omnibus!" and he had leaped on it before we could speak.
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