It almost
seemed as if he said to himself, as he squared his shoulders, "Come,
no giving way to old age!"
"Has his health been good?" he asked, rather formally.
"I believe so, until quite lately. My brother heard yesterday by
telegram that he was at Loango in broken health," replied Jocelyn.
Sir John was looking at her keenly--his hard blue eyes like steel
between the lashless lids.
"You disquiet me," he said. "I have a sort of feeling that you have
bad news to tell me."
"No," she answered, "not exactly. But it seems to me that no one
realises what he is doing out in Africa--what risks he is running."
"Tell me," he said, drawing in his chair. "I will not interrupt
you. Tell me all you know from beginning to end. I am naturally--
somewhat interested."
So Jocelyn told him. And what she said was only a recapitulation of
facts known to such as have followed these pages to this point. But
the story did not sound quite the same as that related to Millicent.
It was fuller, and there were certain details touched upon lightly
which had before been emphasised--details of dangers run and risks
incurred. Also was it listened to in a different spirit, without
shallow comment, with a deeper insight. Suddenly he broke into the
narrative. He saw--keen old worldling that he was--a discrepancy.
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