"Then we needn't say any more," Ashley remarked, hastily gathering the crisp notes in his hand; Jack eyed them longingly. "I'll see you again to-night. Good-bye." He nodded slightly. Bowdon sat motionless. Again Jack looked at both, and his face fell a little. Then he brightened up; there was whiskey upstairs also. "Good afternoon," he said, and moved towards the door; he did not offer to shake hands with Bowdon; he knew that Bowdon would not wish to shake hands with him; and the knowledge did not trouble him.
"Oh, Ashley, my boy, Ashley!" groaned Bowdon when the door closed behind Mr. Fenning.
"He came to blackmail her."
"Evidently. But—I say, Ashley, was he always like that?"
"Of course not," said Ashley Mead almost fiercely. "He must have been going down hill for years. Good God, Bowdon, you know the change liquor and a life like his make in a man."
"Yes, yes, of course," muttered Bowdon.
"SOMEBODY'LL BE GLAD TO SEE ME ANYHOW," HE ENDED WITH A LAUGH
"Thank heaven we've saved her from seeing him as he is now!"