Herrick told the cabman to go to the Club.
Crispin was in the library, seated upon the floor, with a pipe between his teeth, brushing the Sealyham.
His wife burst in tempestuously.
“Crip, the most awful thing has happened.”
“Impossible,” said Crispin calmly. “My word, how lovely you look. Of course, the way to see you is to sit at your feet.”
His wife sat down by his side and put an arm round his neck.
“Crip,” she said, laying her cheek against his. “David’s gone off the deep end.”
“What?” cried Crispin. “Gone and got sozzled by day?”
“No, no, no. Far worse, Crip. He thinks he’s in love with me.”
“The devil he does,” said Crispin. “Not that it isn’t natural, but what a stew and a half! Where’s Nell come in?”