‘So I had, but he proved disappointing. Hummed and hawed, said he couldn’t go just now, but perhaps a little later on. One saw through him at once. I told him I never travelled about with fellows’ wives, and that settled it.’
‘He was going to be married?’
‘Of course. Love was writ large all over him—in huge capitals. And he was in such a hurry over everything. People in love are always in a hurry—to get back. So I dismissed him with my blessing, and a bauble for the venturesome young woman he has chosen to explore life’s boundless ways with him. R.I.P. He’s done for; and a right good fellow he was, too! Well, what’s up with you?’
‘With me?’
‘Think I can’t see? You’re out of your luck in some way.’
‘Nothing much, any way,’ says Wyndham, with an involuntary smile.
‘Too vague—too vague by half,’ says Crosby, laughing. It is the happiest, heartiest laugh. ‘Come, what’s the matter? Out with it. Money?’
‘No, no,’ says the barrister, laughing in turn.
‘Still, there is something.’
‘Is there? I don’t know,’ says Wyndham, in a tone half comical, half forlorn.