"You do?" said Cameron quietly. "Why?"
"Because Lorraine seems to have become possessed of two ideas—and like all weak men he is becoming obsessed by them. One idea is to effect a reconciliation with Stephanie; the other is to be revenged on Amherst. I have tried to persuade him that if he would do Stephanie a service, he must do Amherst no physical hurt—it would simply revive the scandal and react upon her, and probably terminate any chance he has to have her return to him."
"What chance has he?" Cameron asked. "None, to my mind."
"Not the slightest in the world, to my mind either," Pendleton replied. "But the question now is, I think, which idea will prevail:—the hope of reconciliation with Stephanie, or vengeance on Amherst. I admit I won't even attempt to predict. It will depend on the circumstances of the moment."
"With the chances in favor of violence," said Cameron instantly. "I fear it—I've feared it ever since Stephanie's return. Why the devil does Lorraine do everything too late?"
"It is the nature of the animal, I suppose. Some men seem to do everything backward."
"What do you say to both of us going to see him after dinner, and—well, trying what we can do? He may listen to us."
"If you wish I'll go—but I've given him my views on it once to-day; and while he seemed to agree, I know it was only half-heartedly. However, it will do no harm for you to go.—Amherst's return may have set him wild. Lorraine at his worst is a crazy irresponsible—and I'm rather inclined to look for the worst."
"Very good!" said Cameron. "Now about this miserable Porshinger affair. We——"