The meeting had
broken up by common consent; there was a shuffling of footsteps, and
some disjointed talking and calling down the empty hall, were the lights
were already being put out.
Reitzei had set silent during all this chorus-singing, though
ordinarily, being an excitable person, and indeed rather proud of his
voice, he was ready to roar with any one; and in silence, too, he walked
away with Beratinsky, who either was or appeared to be quite unconscious
of his companion's state of mind. At length Reitzei stopped
short--Oxford Street at this time of the morning was perfectly
silent--and said,
"Beratinsky, I have a word to say to you."
"Very well," said the other, though he seemed surprised.
"I may tell you your manners are none of the best."
Beratinsky looked at him.
"Nor your temper," said he, "one would think. Do you still go back to
what I said about your piece of acting? You are a child, Reitzei."
"I do not care about that," said Reitzei, contemptuously, though he was
not speaking the truth: his self-satisfaction had been grievously hurt.
Pages:
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634