"There's something in that. But suppose we arranged to get the husband out of the way, where she couldn't run to him at once—" he suggested.
They had more drinks. At first Morrell was only sardonically amused; but as his imagination got to working and the creative power awoke, his interest became more genuine. It was all too wildly improbable for words—and yet, was anything improbable in this impossible place? At least it was amusing, the whole thing was amusing—this super-refined exquisite awakened, to an emotion so genuine that what judgment he had was now obscured by the eagerness of his passion; the situation apparently so easily malleable; the beautiful safety of it all for himself. And it did not really matter if the whole fantastic plot failed!
"I tell you, no," he broke his thoughts to reply to some ill-considered suggestion, "The good old simple methods are the best—they're all laid out for us by the Drury Lane melodramas. You leave it to me to get rid of him. Then we'll send the usual message to her that he is lying wounded somewhere—say at Jake's road house—"
"Won't that get her to thinking too much of him?" interrupted Sansome anxiously.
Morrell, momentarily taken aback, gained time for a reply by pouring Sansome another drink, "He's more sense left than I thought," he said to himself; and aloud: "All you want is to get her out to Jake's. She'll go simply as a matter of wifely duty, and all that. Don't worry. Once she's there, it's your affair; and unless I mistake my man, I believe you'll know how to manage the situation"—he winked slyly—"she's really mad about you, but, like most women, she's hemmed in by convention. Boldly break through the convention, and she'll come around."
Sansome was plainly fascinated by the idea, but in a trepidation of doubt, nevertheless.
"But suppose she doesn't come around?" he objected vaguely.
Morrell threw aside his cigarette and arose with an air of decision.
"I thought you were so crazy mad about her?" he said in tones that cut.
"What are you wasting my time for?"
"No, no! Hold on!" cried Sansome, at once all fire again. "I'll do it—hold on!"