and enveloped Conway. A forced conversation of a curiously impersonal
sort dragged from course to course. Absolute strangers would have
exhibited less restraint; for the ghost of an old comradeship made the
fourth at the feast and prated to them in exiguous voice of paths that
had diverged. Drake noticed, besides, an undercurrent of antagonism
between Conway and Mallinson. He inquired what each had been doing
during his absence.

'Mallinson,' interposed Conway, 'has been absorbed in the interesting
study of his own personality.'

'I am not certain that pursuit is not preferable to revolving
unsuccessfully through a cycle of professions,' said Mallinson in
slow sarcasm.

The flush was upon Conway's cheek now. He set his wine glass deliberately
upon the table and leaned forward on an elbow.

'My dear good Sidney,' he began with elaborate affection, plainly
intended as the sugar coating of an excessively unpleasant pill. Drake
hastily interrupted with an anecdote of African experiences. It sounded
bald and monstrously long, but it served its purpose as peace-maker.
Literary acquisitiveness drew Mallinson on to ask for more of the same
kind. Drake mentioned a race of pigmies and described them, speculating
whether they might be considered the originals of the human race.

'My dear fellow, don't!' said Mallinson; 'I loathe hearing about them.
It's so degrading to us to think we sprang from them.'

The peculiar sensitiveness of a mind ever searching, burrowing in, and