“Gerald Bradshaw, by Jove! Does he write this sort of muck?”
“He has been coming here rather often lately. Especially on club-nights, Herbert.” Herbert Heywood showed distinct signs of annoyance.
“Does he, by Jove? I don’t like the fellow. He’s a particularly fine specimen of a bad hat.”
“I’m afraid he’s an immoral man,” said Mrs. Heywood.
Herbert shrugged his shoulders.
“Well, Clare can take care of herself.”
“I wonder,” said Mrs. Heywood, as though she were not at all sure. “My dear, I think you ought to keep an eye on your wife just now.”
Herbert Heywood took his eye-glass out of a fob pocket and fumbled with it.
“Keep an eye on her, mother?”
“She is very queer,” said Mrs. Heywood. “I can’t do anything to please her.”