Rokeby, and we shall see you again a week to-day?"

"A week to-day."

The two men went out and down the stairs into the street. Rokeby had
his air of good-humoured and invincible patience and Osborn dreamed.

"I'll see you right home," said Rokeby.

"And you'll come in, and have a drink."

"Thanks. Perhaps I will. Haven't _you_ got a trousseau to show
me?"

"Get out, you fool!"

"What do chaps feel like, I wonder," said Rokeby, "when the day of
judgment is so near?"

"I shan't tell you, you damned scoffer!"

"Well, well," said Rokeby, "I've seen lots of nice fellows go under
this same way. It always makes me very sorry. I do all I can in the way
of preventive measures, but it's never any good, and there's no cure.
Ab-so-lutely none. There's no real luck in the business, either, as far
as I've seen, though of course some are luckier than others."

"Did you mention luck?" Osborn exclaimed, from his dream. "Don't you
think I'm lucky? I say, Desmond, old thing, don't you think I'm one of
the most astonishingly lucky fellows on God's earth?"