"What's the row, Co.?" asked Lucian, kicking a pebble with his boot toe. "You are getting restive early in the game. Can't you keep to the track for another two months?"
"No."
"What then?"
"This. We must get that fool out of the way."
"Meaning who?"
"She, of course—Ellen Arthur. The woman will make a raving maniac of me in two months more."
"By Jove! and of me, too, if I don't get out of this."
"We must get rid of her."
"How?"
"I don't know—somehow, anyhow."