Dick pondered this an instant.
"I'm going to bed," said Archie. "Got to have a straight eye to-morrow."
"Oh! sit down a second.... I want to talk."
Archie, as a compromise, propped himself against the back of a chair.
"She doesn't regret it, then?" pursued Dick.
"Not she," said Archie. "It would never have done."
"I know," agreed Dick warmly. (It was a real pleasure to him that head and heart went together in this matter.) "But sometimes, you know, women regret that sort of thing. Wish they hadn't been quite so sensible, you know."
"Jenny doesn't," said Archie.
Dick took up his glass which he had filled with his third whisky-and-soda, hardly five minutes before, and drank half of it. He sucked his mustache, and in that instant confidentialism rose in his heart.
"Well, I'm going to have a shot myself," he said.