"Your wife's father was one of the small men who held out against you and was ruined."
Forrester laughed mirthlessly.
"It's the devil's luck; but how was I to know? Women are all unreasonable."
Mr. Shawyer did not answer, and Forrester went on:
"My wife has that Miss Fraser with her now, and mighty uncomfortable it is, too. She's as good as gold, but a rough diamond, and I wanted to get Faith away from the class she's been forced to mix with for the past five years. It looks as if she's going to beat me in that, too," he added, grimly.
"And are you all living at the flat?"
"Yes, for the present. I've taken a house at Hampstead, and we shall move there as soon as it's ready—in a week or two, I hope." He paced the length of the office and back again. "If it didn't look so much like running away, I'd make a settlement on my wife and clear off abroad," he said, shortly.
"I shouldn't do that," said Mr. Shawyer. "She's young. Give her another chance; be patient for a little while."
"Patience was never a virtue of mine," said the Beggar Man, grimly. "And, dash it all! What sort of a life is it for me, do you think? I'm not married at all, except that I'm paying; not that I mind the money."