B. B. Oh, a charming young fellow. Besides, after all, what could be wrong with him? Look at him. What could be wrong with him?
SIR PATRICK. There are two things that can be wrong with any man. One of them is a cheque. The other is a woman. Until you know that a man’s sound on these two points, you know nothing about him.
B. B. Ah, cynic, cynic!
WALPOLE. He’s all right as to the cheque, for a while at all events. He talked to me quite frankly before dinner as to the pressure of money difficulties on an artist. He says he has no vices and is very economical, but that theres one extravagance he cant afford and yet cant resist; and that is dressing his wife prettily. So I said, bang plump out, “Let me lend you twenty pounds, and pay me when your ship comes home.” He was really very nice about it. He took it like a man; and it was a pleasure to see how happy it made him, poor chap.
B. B. [who has listened to Walpole with growing perturbation] But—but—but—when was this, may I ask?
WALPOLE. When I joined you that time down by the river.
B. B. But, my dear Walpole, he had just borrowed ten pounds from me.
WALPOLE. What!
SIR PATRICK [grunts]!
B. B. [indulgently] Well, well, it was really hardly borrowing; for he said heaven only knew when he could pay me. I couldnt refuse. It appears that Mrs Dubedat has taken a sort of fancy to me—