list,
abstractedly.

'Oh, not often--that is to say, only once a month or so, just to look
in. I wanted to ask you: do you think I might venture to begin a
correspondence with Bella?'

'M--m--m! I can't say.'

'It would be so valuable, you know. I could suggest books for her
reading; I could help her in her study of politics, and so on.'

'Well, think about it. But be cautious, I beg of you. Now I must be
off. Only just time enough to get my traps to the station.'

'I'll come with you. Gare du Nord? Oh, plenty of time, plenty of time!
Nothing so abominable as waiting for trains. I make a point of never
getting to the station more than three minutes before time. Astonishing
what one can do in three minutes! I want to tell you about an adventure
I had in Boston. Met a fellow so devilish like Peak that I _couldn't_
believe it wasn't he himself. I spoke to him, but he swore that he knew
not the man. Never saw such a likeness!'

'Curious. It may have been Peak.'

'By all that's suspicious, I can't help thinking the same! He had an
English accent, too.'

'Queer business, this of Peak's. I hope I may live to hear the end of
the story.'

They left the restaurant, and in a few hours Earwaker was again on
English soil.

At Staple Inn a pile of letters awaited him, among them a note from
Christian Moxey, asking for an appointment as soon as possible after
the journalist's return. Earwaker at once sent an invitation, and on
the next evening Moxey came. An intimacy had grown up between the two,
since the mysterious retreat of their common friend. Christian was at
first lost without the companionship of Godwin Peak; he forsook his
studies, and fell into a state of complete idleness which naturally
fostered his tendency to find solace in the decanter. With Earwaker, he
could not talk as unreservedly as with Peak, but on the other hand
there was a tonic influence in the journalist's personality which he
recognised as beneficial. Earwaker was steadily making his way in the
world, lived a life of dignified independence. What was the secret of
these strong, calm natures? Might it not be learnt by studious
inspection?

'How well you look!' Christian exclaimed, on entering. 'We enjoyed your
Provencal letter enormously. That's a ramble I have always meant to do.
Next year perhaps.'

'Why not this? Haven't you got into a dangerous habit of postponement?'

'Yes, I'm afraid I have. But, by-the-bye, no news of Peak, I suppose?'