Toward ten o'clock that evening, Warburton alighted from a train at Notting Hill Gate, and walked through heavy rain to the abode of Norbert Franks.

With satisfaction, he saw the light at the great window of his studio, and learnt from the servant who admitted him that Franks had no company.

His friend received him with surprise, so long was it since Warburton had looked in unexpectedly.
"Nothing amiss ?" said Franks, examining the hard-set face, with its heavy eyes, and cheeks sunken.
"All right.

Came to ask for news, that's all." "News?
Ah, I understand.

There's no news." "Still reflecting ?" "Yes.