"You cad!" Wingate exclaimed. "Your wife simply came to beg my intervention with the management to secure her a room in the—"
"Chuck it!" Dredlinton interrupted. "You're a man of the world. You know very well that I can get a divorce, and I'm going to have it—if I want it. I am meeting Flossie Lane at midday at my solicitor's. What have you got to say about that?"
"That if you keep your word it will be a very happy release for your wife," Wingate replied drily.
Dredlinton leaned across the desk. There was an almost satyrlike grin upon his face.
"You are a fool," he said. "My wife wants to get rid of me—you and she have talked that over, I have no doubt—but not this way. She is a proud woman, Wingate. The one desire of her life is to be free, but you can take this from me—if I bring my suit and gain my decree on the evidence I shall put before the court—-don't forget Flossie Lane, will you?—she'll never raise her head again. That is what I am going to do, unless—"
He paused.
"Unless what?" Wingate demanded.
"Unless you sell those shares to Peter Phipps."
Wingate was silent for a few moments. He studied his companion appraisingly.
"Dredlinton," he said at last, "I did you an injustice."