He no longer looked at Linforth.

His one quick glance had shown him enough.
"So it's all over, eh ?" he said, as he played with his paper-knife.
"Summer mornings on the Cherwell.

Travels in the Dauphine.

The Meije and the Aiguilles d'Arves.

Oh, I know." Linforth moved as he stood at the side of Ralston's desk, but the set look upon his face did not change.
And Ralston went on.