"Perhaps the knowledge that she was failing in her duty as a wife came to her in that mesmeric state; came to her so strongly that she started off to the depôt, just then and there, to look for me. If she's at the depôt now, in the state you say she was, I guess she'll soon be popular."
"Don't you think I'd better go and look for her?"
"I do not. If she's gone, she's gone, and if she comes back again she comes, but I'm not the man to put my friends out for a trifle. My friend, if you will allow me to call you so, give me your hand." Before Mr. Pownceby was quite aware of it, Mr. Pratt had possession of his hand. "I thank you. You have placed me under an obligation to you this day. But it may be that I shall cry you evens yet. Let's liquor. Perhaps the young lady will pool in?" Miss Haseltine, however, making some inaudible remark having reference to her mamma, vanished out of sight. Mr. Pratt was not at all abashed. He addressed the waiters. "Champagne--a large bottle--and a bucket of ice."
Mr. Pownceby protested.
"You are very kind, but I don't drink at this hour of the day, and only so----"
Mr. Pratt cut him short.
"Fetch the drink." The waiter fled. "If, after performing those pleasing experiments on the wife, you refuse to drink with the husband, I shall take it quite unkindly."
"But don't you think some inquiries ought to be made for Mrs. Pratt?"
"I do not. What I do think is that I ought to cultivate your friendship now that I have the chance. A man who knows the wife so well should know something of the husband too."
The drink came. Mr. Pratt saw two bumpers filled. Mr. Pownceby, who was an abstemious man, had a difficulty in escaping being compelled to drain his draught.