I seemed almost to have persuaded him. He questioned me:
"What is the alternative, Frank, the wisest thing to do in your opinion? Tell me that."
"You ought to go abroad," I replied, "go abroad with your wife, and let Queensberry and his son fight out their own miserable quarrels; they are well-matched."
"Oh, Frank," he cried, "how can I do that?"
"Sleep on it," I replied; "I am going to, and we can talk it all over in a day or two."
"But I must know," he said wistfully, "to-morrow morning, Frank."
"Bernard Shaw is lunching with me to-morrow," I replied, "at the Café Royal."
He made an impatient movement of his head.
"He usually goes early," I went on, "and if you like to come after three o'clock we can have a talk and consider it all."