Page:The orange-yellow diamond by Fletcher, J. S. (Joseph Smith).djvu/263

 evidently impromptu supper lay on a table lighted by a shaded lamp. Two men had been partaking of that supper, but Levendale was alone. He gave his visitor another queer smile, and pointed, first to a chair and then to a decanter.

"Sit down—take a drink," he said. "This is a queer meeting! We haven't seen each other since—"

"Good God, man!" broke in Purdie, staring at his host. "What's it all mean? Are you—disguised?"

Levendale laughed—ruefully—and glanced at the mean garments which Mrs. Goldmark had spoken of.

"Necessity!" he said. "Had to! Ah!—I've been through some queer times—and in queer places. Look here—what do you know?"

"Know?" cried Purdie. "You want me to tell you all I know—in a sentence? Man!—it would take a month! What do you know? That's more like it!"

Levendale passed a hand across his forehead—there was a weariness in his gesture which showed his visitor that he was dead beat.

"Aye, just so!" he said. "But—tell me! has John Purvis come looking for his brother?"

"He has!" answered Purdie. "He's in London just now."

"Has he told about that diamond?—told the police?" demanded Levendale.

"He has!" repeated Purdie. "That's all known. Stephen Purvis—where is he?"

"Upstairs—asleep—dead tired out," said Levendale.

"We both are! Night and day—day and night—I could fall on this floor and sleep—"