"I don't envy that Padri," said Charteris.
"Nor I. Antony would have declared himself Pope of Granthistan if that would have enabled him to invalidate the marriage, but the younger Begum is indubitably Mrs Arbuthnot, and means to remain so. So Antony has packed them both back to the hill tracts, with the intimation that Arbuthnot may consider himself permanently relegated to the society of his new relations and his kind friend Tika Singh."
"Which means utter and absolute ruin, of course. Well, I call it uncommon hard."
"I don't know. Suppose Antony had written, 'Return to your sorrowing chief, and all shall be forgiven,' and done the heavy father business when they turned up, and set both Mrs Antonys and Lady Cinnamond to call on the Begum Arbuthnot, what would it have been but an encouragement to other fellows to go and do likewise?"
"Will the fellow find it worth it, I wonder? Funny thing what a difference a woman can make in a man's life."
Gerrard assented with almost a groan. "She plays the very mischief sometimes. Bob, I can't help thinking that perhaps you were right when you suggested we had better agree to give up all thoughts of her, both of us."
The light-brown eyes, which gave a peculiar character to Charteris's red-tanned face, flamed suddenly. "I suggest such a thing?" he cried. "Hal, you are mad. What I said was that I would never, under any circumstances, enter into such an agreement. Give up if you like. I go on until I die or she marries me."
"Or me," said Gerrard, laughing mirthlessly.
Charteris struck his hand upon the table. "Are you trying to provoke me, Hal? I have stood a good deal from you, but there are limits. What's come over you?"
"Oh, forebodings—presentiments, that's all."