“It wasn’t Browning’s opinion,” said Mr. Cardan.
“The woman yonder, there’s no use in life
But just to obtain her.”
“Browning was a fool,” said Calamy.
But Lord Hovenden was silently of opinion that Browning was quite right. He thought of Irene’s face, looking out of the little window in the copper bell.
“Browning belonged to another species,” Mr. Cardan corrected.
“A foolish species, I insist,” said Calamy.
“Well, to tell the truth,” Mr. Cardan admitted, closing his winking eye a little further, “I secretly agree with you about that. I’m not really as entirely tolerant as I should like to be.”
Calamy was frowning pensively over his own affairs, and without discussing the greater or less degree of Mr. Cardan’s tolerance he went on. “The question is, at the end of it all: what’s the way out? what’s to be done about it? For it’s obvious, as you say, that the little ravishments will turn up again. And appetite grows with fasting. And philosophy, which knows very well how to deal with past and future temptations, always seems to break down before the present, the immediate ones.”
“Happily,” said Mr. Cardan. “For, when all is said, is there a better indoor sport? Be frank with me; is there?”