Maurice smiled.
"It'll take more than the Pride to reform me, Tom. I'm thinking that the place is too good to sell or throw away."
"If I could lay my hand on two thousand guineas," said Tom, "anyone could have the Pride for me!"
Maurice looked up quickly.
"Why, Tom, all I've got's yours, you know very well! Take what you want—two thousand or twenty."
"Devilish good of you, Maurry, but I'll not sponge on you yet. No, don't start to argue with me, for my head's not strong enough what with one thing and another. Tell me more of this wife of yours. Who is it to be?"
"I haven't decided," replied Maurice. He yawned slightly. "There are so many to choose from."
"Ay—you're an attractive devil—'pon my word you are! What d'ye say to Lucy Farmer?"
Maurice shuddered.
"Spare me. I had thought of Marianne Tempest."