"No, that is an auditory delusion. Not even two clocks beat in unison.
There is always a discrepancy, infinitesimal, perhaps, but a discrepancy
nevertheless."

A sharp ring of the bell interrupted the conversation. A moment later a
curly head peeped through the door.

"Hello, Ernest! How are you, old man?" the intruder cried, with a laugh
in his voice. Then, noticing Clarke, he shook hands with the great man
unceremoniously, with the nonchalance of the healthy young animal bred
in the atmosphere of an American college.

His touch seemed to thrill Clarke, who breathed heavily and then stepped
to the window, as if to conceal the flush of vitality on his cheek.

It was a breath of springtide that Jack had brought with him. Youth is a
Prince Charming. To shrivelled veins the pressure of his hand imparts a
spark of animation, and middle age unfolds its petals in his presence,
as a sunflower gazing at late noon once more upon its lord.

"I have come to take Ernest away from you," said Jack. "He looks a
trifle paler than usual, and a day's outing will stir the red corpuscles
in his blood."

"I have no doubt that you will take very good care of him," Reginald
replied.

"Where shall we go?" Ernest asked, absent-mindedly.