“Is n’t that the same thing?”
“Not in the least. I have never thought you a man of oddities.” Gordon stood there looking at him with a serious eye, half appealing, half questioning; but at these last words he glanced away. Even a very modest man may wince a little at hearing himself denied the distinction of a few variations from the common type. Longueville made this reflection, and it struck him, also, that his companion was in a graver mood than he had expected; though why, after all, should he have been in a state of exhilaration? “Your letter was a very natural, interesting one,” Bernard added.
“Well, you see,” said Gordon, facing his companion again, “I have been a good deal preoccupied.”
“Obviously, my dear fellow!”
“I want very much to marry.”
“It ‘s a capital idea,” said Longueville.
“I think almost as well of it,” his friend declared, “as if I had invented it. It has struck me for the first time.”
These words were uttered with a mild simplicity which provoked Longueville to violent laughter.
“My dear fellow,” he exclaimed, “you have, after all, your little oddities.”
Singularly enough, however, Gordon Wright failed to appear flattered by this concession.