"Oh! Has he an office?"
"I don't know—some office Ronnie is connected with. He's a director, my dear. I saw his name in the paper—Ronnie, I mean."
"Has Ambrose been in trouble?"
"No, some other man, I forget his name. It is foreign and he drinks. But it has all blown over now."
Christina sighed. "I don't see how Ambrose came into it, even after your lucid explanation."
"Ambrose, that is to say Mr. Sault, is supposed to look after—whatever his name is. It sounds like the name of a cigarette. He is supposed to stop him drinking. And he found this—Moropulos, that's the name, in a bar and hauled him out and Moropulos fought him. I don't know the whole story but I do know that there was a row."
"Is the cigarette person still able to walk about?" asked Christina incredulously.
"Yes, but they are very bad friends. Moropulos says he'll get even with Sault."
"Unhappy man," said Christina, "Ronnie is getting quite communicative, isn't he?"
"We're real friends," answered the girl enthusiastically, "we're just pals! I sometimes feel—I don't know whether I ought to tell you this. But I will. I sometimes feel that I really don't want to marry Ronnie at all. I feel that I could be perfectly happy, married to somebody else, if I had him for a friend. Isn't that queer?"