Otterburn did not venture to speak to Eustace about his rejection by Victoria, as he was afraid of being laughed at by the cynic, and Eustace held his tongue concerning his passion for his cousin's wife, as he thought, and with good reason, that Otterburn would consider it dishonourable. It was the quick coupled with the dead, and they both felt it, so when they reached Venice, although they put up together at Danieli's, by tacit consent they saw as little of one another as possible. To his great delight Otterburn picked up an old Oxford chum one day, and finding that he was going on a shooting excursion to the Carpathian Mountains with another friend, agreed to join him. To this desertion, Eustace by no means objected, as he was heartily sick of Macjean's love-lorn sulkiness, so, at the end of the week, the young man, with his two friends, keen sportsmen and capital company, left Eustace in Venice, and departed in high spirits on his excursion. Eustace therefore was left entirely alone, and preferred his solitude, for had he so chosen he could have found plenty of pleasant companions willing to go to Cyprus if needful, but having a fancy for a solitary journey, and the idea of a new book of travels in his head, he held aloof from Anglo-Italian society and wandered about Venice with no other company than his own dreary thoughts. Fate, however, evidently had a spite against Mr. Gartney, for one day, while he was sitting at Florian's, smoking cigarettes and watching the white pigeons whirling aloft in the blue sky, someone touched him on the shoulder, and on turning he found himself facing Billy Dolser, a dapper little man-about-town, whom he particularly disliked. Mr. Dolser owned a spiteful society paper called "The Pepper Box," which was always getting into trouble for the lies it told, and Eustace himself had been pretty severely handled in its columns, as the proprietor hated him with all the malignant venom of a little soul. Everybody in society was afraid of Billy, who had an unpleasant knack of finding out things people did not want known, and publishing them in his paper, so everyone was civil to him, except one or two men who had the bad taste to horsewhip him, but Billy did not mind, as it made his paper sell, so there was positively no way of society ridding itself of this little wasp. "How do, Gartney?" said Mr. Dolser, offering two fingers to Eustace, which that gentleman refused to see. "Heard you were here--yes! Cut away from town I suppose because of your book? No! we thought you did. You're getting it hot--rather!" "I'm hanged if I care," retorted Eustace indolently, "it will only make the book sell. How's 'The Pepper Box' going?" "Oh capitally--yes!" said Billy, taking a seat. "Three actions of libel on--ha! ha!" "That sounds well--any horsewhippings?" Billy grinned, not being a bit offended at this allusion, as it all came under the head of business.