barometer," said Tallis as he proceeded to stuff tobacco into his pipe-bowl from the jar on the table.
For some time the two smoked in silence. To Beresford Tallis was always a soothing influence. He seemed to possess the faculty of forgetting the other fellow's existence until spoken to.
"I'm the very deuce of a mystery to myself," Beresford said presently with a wry smile. "Somewhere I suppose there's a kink in me."
"You're probably passing through the sturm und drang of romance," said Tallis. "It's the Renaissance strain in you coming out."
"I wonder," murmured Beresford meditatively; then after a pause he added, "You see, Tallis, no girl ever really meant anything to me before. I seemed always to regard them in a detached sort of way, just as Drewitt does. This is I wonder if you understand?"
Tallis nodded as he gazed into the bowl of his pipe. Suddenly it struck Beresford that what made Tallis so easy to talk to was that he always appeared to be absorbed in something else, generally his pipe. It was much easier talking about such things to a man who did not persist in looking at you.
"I seem always to have been waiting for something to happen." He paused and looked across at Tallis a little apologetically.
"The latent spirit of romance."
Beresford looked at him sharply.
"Go on," said Tallis, catching his eye, "I'm serious."
