Sansome sipped at his drink; sighed sentimentally.
"Cold—yes—but if the right man could awaken her—" he murmured.
"Look here, Sansome, do you want that woman?"
Sansome looked at his companion haughtily; his eye fell; he drew circles with the bottom of his glass.
"By gad!" he cried with a sudden queer burst of fire; "I've got to have her!"
And then he turned slowly red, actually started to wriggle, concealed his embarrassment under cover of his cigar.
"H'm," observed Morrell speculatively, without looking across at
Sansome. "Tell me, Ben, does she still care for her husband?"
"No; that I'll swear!" replied Sansome eagerly.
"If you're sure of that one essential little fact, and you really want her, why don't you take her?"
"Damn it, ain't I telling you? She won't see me."