"Rot!" Phipps answered scornfully. "Your title and your social position aren't worth a damn to me. I put you on because of your wife."
Dredlinton stared at him.
"Why, you didn't even know her!"
"Never mind. I knew her to look at. I wanted to know her. Now I do know her, and it hasn't done me much good."
Dredlinton sat a little more erect in his place. Behind his cynical exterior, his evil brain had begun to work.
"Look here, Phipps," he said, "I don't care about this conversation. If a man happens to admire another man's wife, her husband is scarcely the proper confidant."
"Oh, yes, I know your theory!" Phipps scoffed. "You're willing enough to hide your head in the sand and take the goods the gods send you. That doesn't suit me. I happen to need your help."
"My help?" Dredlinton repeated. "The poor little spider to help the mighty Phipps! You're not finding difficulties in the way of your suit, are you?"
"If I do, it will be the worse for you," was the gruff reply. "As you're going on now, Dredlinton, it will be your wife, and your wife alone, who'll keep you out of jail before many weeks are past. How about that cheque to Farnham and Company last week? Farnham's say they never got it, but I hear it's come back through the bank with a queer endorsement upon it."
Dredlinton caught at the tablecloth. The malicious gleam in his eyes gave way to a look of positive fear.