"I don't know what you may call lots, Mr. Cradell; I don't call it lots. But I'm not complaining. I know who I have to thank; and if ever I blow my own brains out I shan't be putting the blame on the wrong shoulders. If you'll take my advice,"—and now he turned round to Eames,—"you'll beware of marrying too soon in life."
"I think a man should marry early, if he marries well," said Eames.
"Don't misunderstand me," continued Lupex. "It isn't about Mrs. L. I'm speaking. I've always regarded my wife as a very fascinating woman."
"Hear, hear, hear!" said Cradell, thumping the table.
"Indeed she is," said Eames.
"And when I caution you against marrying, don't you misunderstand me. I've never said a word against her to any man, and never will. If a man don't stand by his wife, whom will he stand by? I blame no one but myself. But I do say this; I never had a chance;—I never had a chance;—never had a chance." And as he repeated the words for the third time, his lips were already fixed to the rim of his tumbler.
At this moment the door of the dining-room was opened, and Mrs. Lupex put in her head.
"Lupex," she said, "what are you doing?"
"Yes, my dear. I can't say I'm doing anything at the present moment. I was giving a little advice to these young gentlemen."
"Mr. Cradell, I wonder at you. And, Mr. Eames, I wonder at you, too,—in your position! Lupex, come upstairs at once." She then stepped into the room and secured the gin-bottle.