and stones and logs of wood; I saw one poor chap with
the side of his face cut clean open. It does
one good, a real stirring-up like that; I feel better
to-day than for the last month. And the swearing
that went on! It’s a long time since I heard
such downright, hearty, solid swearing. There
was one chap I kept near, and he swore for a full
hour without stopping, except when he had a bottle
at his mouth; he only stopped when he was speechless
with liquor.’
‘I wish I’d been there,’ said Miss.
French gaily. ’It must have been no end
of fun.’
’A right down good spree. And it wasn’t
over till about eight o’clock. I stayed
till the police had cleared the grounds, and then
came home, laughing all the way. It did me good,
I tell you!’
‘Well, shall we go and see the lawyer?’
suggested Beatrice.
’Right you are.—Have a drink first?
Nice quiet place round in Fleet Street—glass
of wine. No? As you please, old chum.—Think
this shop ’ll do, don’t you? You must
come round when it’s finished. But I daresay
you’ll be here many a time—on biz.’
‘Oh, I daresay.’
And as they went down the stairs, Crewe laughed again
at his recollections of yesterday’s sport.
Gusts of an October evening swept about the square
of the old Inn, and made rushes at the windows; all
the more cosy seemed it here in Tarrant’s room,
where a big fire, fed into smokeless placidity, purred
and crackled. Pipe in mouth, Tarrant lay back
in his big chair, gracefully indolent as ever.
Opposite him, lamp-light illuminating her face on
one side, and fire-gloom on the other, Nancy turned
over an illustrated volume, her husband’s gift
today. Many were the presents he had bestowed
upon her, costly some of them, all flattering the
recipient by a presumption of taste and intelligence.
She had been here since early in the afternoon, it
was now near seven o’clock.
Nancy looked at the pictures, but inattentively, her
brows slightly knitted, and her lips often on the
point of speech that concerned some other matter.
Since the summer holiday she had grown a trifle thinner
in face; her beauty was no longer allied with perfect
health; a heaviness appeared on her eyelids. Of
course she wore the garb of mourning, and its effect
was to emphasise the maturing change manifest in her
features.
For several minutes there had passed no word; but
Tarrant’s face, no less than his companion’s,
signalled discussion in suspense. No unfriendly
discussion, yet one that excited emotional activity
in both of them. The young man, his pipe-hand
falling to his knee, first broke silence.
