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PODB. But that cousin of hers--Charley, you know--how about _him_?
CULCH. I put that to her, and there is nothing in it. In fact, she practically admitted--(_He glances round and lowers his voice._) I will tell you another time. That lady over there is looking at us, and I'm almost certain----
PODB. What if she is, she don't understand a word we're saying. I want to hear all about Her, you know.
CULCH. My dear Podbury, we shall have ample time to talk about her while we are at Nuremberg together--it will be the greatest pleasure to me to do so as long as you please.
PODB. Thanks, old chap! I'd no idea you were doing all this, you know.
But just tell me this, what did she _say_ about me?
CULCH. (_mystified_). About you? I really don't recollect that she mentioned _you_ particularly.
PODB. (_puzzled_). But I thought you said you'd been speaking up for me!
What _did_ you talk about then?
CULCH. Well, about myself--naturally.
[_He settles his collar with a vague satisfaction._
PODB. (_blankly_). Oh! Then you haven't been arranging to meet her again on _my_ account?
CULCH. Good Heavens, no--what a very grotesque idea of yours, my dear fellow! [_He laughs gently._
PODB. Is it? You always gave out that she wasn't your style at all, and you only regarded her as a "study," and rot like that. How could _I_ tell you would go and cut me out?
CULCH. I don't deny that she occasionally--er--jarred. She is a little deficient in surface refinement--but that will come, that will come. And as to "cutting you out," why, you must allow you never had the remotest----
PODB. I don't allow anything of the sort. She liked me well enough till--till you came in and set her against me, and you may think it friendly if you like, but I call it shabby--confoundedly shabby.
CULCH. Don't talk so loud, I'm sure I saw that woman smile!
PODB. She may smile her head off for all I care. (_The train stops;_ _the Cripple and all but the_ Pale-haired Lady _get out._) Here we are at Nuremberg. What hotel did you say you are going to?
CULCH. The Bayrischer-Hof. Why?
[_He gets his coat and stick, &c., out of the rack._
PODB. Because I shall go to some other, that's all.
CULCH. (_in dismay_). My dear Podbury, this is really too childis.h.!.+
There's no sense in travelling together, if we're going to stay at different hotels!
PODB. I'm not sure I shall go any further. Anyway, while I _am_ here, I prefer to keep to myself.
CULCH. (_with a displeased laugh_). Just as you please. It's a matter of perfect indifference to _me_. I'm afraid you'll be terribly bored by yourself, though.
PODB. That's _my_ look out. It can't be worse than going about with you and listening while you crow and drivel about _her_, that's one comfort!
[_The_ Pale-haired Lady _coughs in a suspicious manner._
CULCH. You don't even know if there _is_ another hotel.
PODB. I don't care. I can find a pot-house somewhere, I daresay.
THE PALE-HAIRED LADY (_in excellent English, to_ PODBURY _as he pa.s.ses out_). Pardon me, you will find close to the Bahnhof a very goot hotel--the Wurtemburger.
[PODBURY _thanks her and alights in some confusion; the_ Lady _sinks back, smiling._
CULCH. (_annoyed_). She must have understood every word we said! Are you in earnest over this? (PODBURY _nods grimly._) Well, you'll soon get tired of your own society, I warn you.
PODB. Thanks, we shall see.
[_He saunters off with his bag;_ CULCHARD _shrugs his shoulders, and goes in search of the Bayrischer-Hof Porter, to whom he entrusts his luggage tickets, and takes his seat in the omnibus alone._
CHAPTER VIII.
+Podbury finds Consolation.+
SCENE--_A Bridge over the Pegnitz, at Nuremberg. Time, afternoon. The shadows of the old gabled and balconied houses are thrown sharply on the reddish-yellow water. Above the steep speckled roofs, the spires of St.
Lorenz glitter against the blue sky._ CULCHARD _is leaning listlessly upon the parapet of the bridge._
CULCHARD (_to himself_). How mediaeval it all is, and how infinitely restful! (_He yawns._) What a blessed relief to be without that fellow Podbury! He's very careful to keep out of my way--I've scarcely seen him since I've been here. He must find it dreadfully dull. (_He sighs._) I ought to find material for a colour-sonnet here, with these subdued grey tones, those dull coppery-greens, and the glowing reds of the conical caps of those towers. I _ought_--but I don't. I fancy that half-engagement to Maud Trotter must have scared away the Muse. I wonder if Podbury has really gone yet? (_Here a thump on the back disposes of any doubt as to this._) Er--so you're still at Nuremberg? [_Awkwardly._
PODB. (_cheerfully_). Rather! Regular ripping old place this--suits me down to the ground. And how are _you_ getting on, my bonnie boy, eh?
CULCH. (_who does not quite like being addressed as a bonnie boy_).
Perfectly, thanks. My mind is being--er--stimulated here in the direction most congenial to it.
PODB. So's mine. By the way, have you got a book--I don't mean a novel, but a regular improving book--the stodgier the better--to lend a fellow?
CULCH. Well, I brought an _Epitome of Herbert Spencer's Synthetic_ _Philosophy_ away with me to dip into occasionally. It seems a very able summary, and you are welcome to it, if it's of any use to you.
PODB. Spencer, eh?--he's a stiff kind of old bird, ain't he? He'll do me to-rights, thanks.
CULCH. It strikes me, Podbury, that you must find the time rather long, to want a book of that kind. If you wish to resume our--ah--original relations, I am quite ready to overlook what I am sure was only a phase of not unnatural disappointment.
PODB. (_cheerfully_). Oh, _that's_ all right, old fellow. I've got over all that business. (_He colours slightly._) How soon did you think of moving on?
CULCH. (_briskly_). As soon as you please. We might start for Constance to-morrow, if you like.
PODB. (_hesitating_). Well, you see, it's just this: there's a fellow staying at my hotel--Prendergast, his name is--rattling good sort--and I've rather chummed up with him, and--and he's travelling with a relation of his, and--well, the fact is, they rather made a point of my going on to Constance with _them_, don't you see? But I daresay we could work it so as to go on all together. I'll see what they say about it.
CULCH. (_stiffly_). I'm exceedingly obliged--but so large a party is scarcely--however, I'll let you know whether I can join you or not this evening. Are you--er--going anywhere in particular just now?
PODB. Well, yes. I've got to meet Prendergast at the _Cafe Noris_. We're going to beat up some stables, and see if we can't hire a couple of gees for an hour or two before dinner. Do you feel inclined for a t.i.ttup?