Tony had remained just within the closed door, as if to guard against its moving from the other side. At this, with a faint flush in his dead vacancy, he came a few steps further. But there was something still locked in his conscious, altered eyes, and coldly absent from the tone in which he said: "You've come, I think, from China?"
"I've come, Mr. Bream, from China."
"And it's open to you to go back?"
Dennis frowned. "I can do as I wish."
"And yet you're not off like a shot?"
"My movements and my inclinations are my own affair. You won't accept my aid?"
Tony gave his sombre stare. "You ask me, as you call it, to meet you. I beg you to excuse me if on my side I first inquire on what definite ground———?"
Dennis took him straight up. "On the definite ground on which Doctor Ramage is good enough to do so. I'm afraid there's no better ground than my honour."
Tony's stare was long and deep; then he put out his hand, and while Dennis held it, "I understand you," he said. "Good-bye."
