By some agency, into which it is needless to inquire, though we may have suspicions, at that moment Eugene strolled into the billiard-room.
"We have a little question to submit to you, my dear fellow," said Ayre blandly.
Eugene looked at him suspiciously.

He had been a good deal worried the last few days, and had a dim idea that he deserved it, which deprived him of the sense of unmerited suffering--a most valuable consolation in time of trouble.
"It's about Stafford.

You remember the head of him Morewood did, and the conclusion we drew from it--or, rather, it forced upon us ?" Eugene nodded, instinctively assuming his most nonchalant air.
"We think he's a bad case.

What think you ?" "I agree--at least, I suppose I do.

I haven't thought much about it." Ayre thought the indifference overdone, but he took no notice of it.
"We are inclined to think he ought to be shown that picture.