It is all very sad. Only a month ago, and Tudor was--but what am I
saying? Who knows what perils and misfortunes he--they--may not have
escaped? For my part, I envy--yes, I envy Tudor.'

'But not her? You do not envy her? In your quality of philosophy, you
regret _her_ death?'

'Do not ask me to be consistent,' said the philosopher, after a long
pause.

Hugo rose and approached Darcy.

'Are you acquainted with a man named Louis Ravengar?' he demanded in a
rather loud tone.

The doctor scanned his face.

'I have heard Tudor mention the name, but I do not know him.'

'And upon my soul I believe you,' cried Hugo. 'Nevertheless--'

'Nevertheless what?'

Darcy seemed startled. Hugo's strange outburst was indeed startling.

'Oh, nothing!' Hugo muttered. 'Nothing.' He walked to the window, which
looked out on Blair Street. The first heralds of the dawn were in the
eastern sky, and the moon overhead was paling. 'It will be daylight in a
minute,' he said. 'I must go. Come with me first to the drawing-room,
will you?'