Why shouldn't he go and live with
Nicolovius in his new home, the home of perfect quiet and immunity from
boarders? And unbroken leisure, too, for of course Nicolovius would bear
all expenses, and he himself would fly from all remunerative work as
from the Black Death. Nay more, the old chap would very likely be
willing to pay him a salary for his society, or at least, see that he
was kept well supplied with everything he needed--books to demolish like
this one under his arm, and ...
He looked up and found the sardonic Italian eyes of the old professor
fixed on him with a most curious expression.... No, no! Better even Mrs.
Paynter's than solitude shared with this stagey old man, with his
repellent face and his purring voice which his eyes so belied.
"I must be going," said Queed hastily.
His host came forward with suave expressions of regret. "However, I feel
much complimented that you came at all. Pray honor me again very soon--"
"I'll return this book sometime," continued the young man, already at
the door. "You won't mind if I mark it, of course?"
"My dear sir--most certainly not.
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