How often could _you_ tell _me_ what it is that prevents your taking life cheerfully ?' He glanced at her, and Marcella's eyes fell; a moment after, there was a suspicion of colour in her cheek.
'What are you reading ?' Peak asked abruptly, but in a voice of more conventional note.
'Still Hafiz.' 'I envy your power of abstraction.' 'Yet I hear that you are deeply concerned about the locomotive powers of the _diatomaceaoe_ ?' Their eyes met, and they laughed--not very mirthfully.
'It preserves me from worse follies,' said Peak.

'After all, there are ways more or less dignified of consuming time'-- As he spoke, his ear caught a familiar name, uttered by Christian Moxey, and he turned to listen.

Moxey and Earwaker were again talking of the Rev.Bruno Chilvers.

Straightway disregarding Marcella, Peak gave attention to the men's dialogue, and his forehead wrinkled into scornful amusement.
'It's very interesting,' he exclaimed, at a moment when there was silence throughout the company, 'to hear that Chilvers is really coming to the front.

At Whitelaw it used to be prophesied that he would be a bishop, and now I suppose he's fairly on the way to that.