“No,” said Charles. “She doesn’t know.”
“She needn’t ever. You can put up at[Pg 550] a hotel, Charley, and just come out for a visit now and then.”
“No, old man,” said Charles quietly. “Wouldn’t do.”
“Yes, it would. See here, Charley—that’s a remarkable opportunity with Carrick. You’ll—”
“I know,” said Charles; “but I think I’ll go down to Nicaragua, Wick.”
“Charley, don’t do it! She doesn’t know; and as for me—I want you here. It’s suicide to go down there. Stay here, Charley!”
“Can’t, Wick,” said Charles. Then he glanced up, with his flashing smile. “I’m off to-morrow, Wick. It’s the best thing. I’m going to make my fortune down there—see?”
“Charley, this is foolish melodrama stuff! You’re not a boy. It can’t be as bad as that.”
“It is, Wick—as bad as that.”
Wickham was silent for a long time.