"But you will tell me where you live, where I can find you?" interrupted
Lord Sutcombe.
Mr. Clendon smiled, gravely. "I think not, Talbot. To tell you the
truth, I am so enamoured of this life of mine, of its solitude and
independence, that I cannot run the risk of having it broken in upon.
Good-bye. Don't bear me ill-will. And don't be afraid. I am going back
to the grave again."
The Marquess stretched out his hand, as if to detain him; but, with a
gesture, full of dignity and command, as well as imploration, the bent
figure passed out.