They were too busy with their preparations for taking
Bessie home. They must be on their way by this time, he thought, and
with a heavy heart he journeyed on from Venice until Vienna was reached,
and there, at the Hotel Metropole, he found Jack Trevellian's name
registered. It would be a relief to talk to him, Grey thought. He had
known Bessie, too; and Grey must speak to some one of the sorrow
weighing so heavily upon him, or the burden would break him down.
That night in Jack Trevellian's room two young men sat opposite each
other with only a small table between them, and on it a single wax
candle, which threw a faint, glimmering light upon the white faces which
looked so sadly at each other, as in dumb silence the two sat motionless
for a few moments after Grey had told his news.
"What is it, old fellow?" Jack had said, cheerily, as, after expressing
his joy and surprise at meeting his friend so unexpectedly, and
motioning him to a seat, he noticed the care-worn look upon his face and
the set expression upon his mouth.
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