“Men are restless,” he said lamely.
“But why should he be? You would not go—”
“I, no—I have wanted to, though. But it's better for me to stay. They are involved,” he went on slowly. “I warned them in the start that they must be careful or this would happen; and now they are stubborn and unwilling to abandon a venture for which they are largely responsible. Nothing would have come of this man Rogers's efforts without their help.”
“Have you taken shares in this absurd company?”
He smiled a little cynically. “No, and I scarcely think I shall.” he hesitated. “Still I admit the speculation has its fascinations. I can't quite explain even to myself what they are; but they exist. Yes, I've even wanted to go,” he went on, smiling at her, “but I've never found I could afford to give way to my impulses.”
“But in going you would leave no one who would suffer as I shall suffer if Stephen goes. I don't mean but that your friends would regret your absence—” she added hastily.
He looked at her curiously. A faint, wistful smile played about the corners of his mouth. “I haven't a wife, if that is what you mean,” he said at last.
She looked up quickly into his face.
“Do you mean—?” she hesitated.
“Mean what?” he asked.