He took one, savagely aware of defiance somewhere. She lighted her own from a candle and settled back, studying the sequence of blue smoke-rings jetting upward to the ceiling.
“About this man Plank,” he began, louder than he had intended through sheer self-mistrust; and his wife made a quick, disdainful sign of caution, which subdued his voice instantly. “Why can't we take him up—together, Leila?” he ended lamely, furious at his own uneasiness in a matter which might concern him vitally.
“I see no necessity of your taking him up,” observed his wife serenely. “I can do what may be useful to him in town.”
“So can I. There are clubs where he ought to be seen—”
“I can manage such matters much better.”
“You can't manage everything,” he insisted sullenly. “There are chances of various sorts—”
“Investments?” asked Mrs. Mortimer, with bright malice.
“See here, Leila, you have your own way too much. I say little; I make damned few observations; but I could, if I cared to.... It becomes you to be civil at least. I want to talk over this Plank matter with you; I want you to listen, too.”
A shade of faint disgust passed over her face. “I am listening,” she said.
“Well, then, I can see several ways in which the man can be of use to me.... I discovered him before you did, anyway. And what I want to do is to have a frank, honourable—”