Glazzard had spoken as if with a great effort, his voice indistinct, his eyes furtive.

When the burst of merriment made answer to him, he fell back in his chair, crossed his legs, and set his features in a hard smile.
"You are joking, old fellow!" said Denzil.
"Yes, if you like." Quarrier wished to discuss the point, but the other kept an obstinate silence.
"I understand," remarked Denzil, at length.

"You hit upon that thought out of kindness to me.

You don't like my project, and you wished to save me from its dangers.

I understand.