“I won’t be such a funk,” he cried savagely. “Alter all, I’ve made my bed and I must lie on it.”
IX
A few days later Basil was married, and Frank, who had assisted him in the rather sordid proceedings of the registry office, going back to his rooms, found Reggie Bassett comfortably lounging in an armchair, with his long legs on another. By his side were Frank’s cigarettes and the whisky-and-soda.
“I see you make yourself at home, my friend.”
“I was passing this way and I hadn’t got anything particular to do, so I thought I’d look in: my mamma thinks your society good for me. Got your wedding over?”
“What do you know about it?” asked Frank sharply.
“More than you think, my boy,” answered Reggie, with a grin. “The mater told me as a solemn warning. She says Kent’s married a barmaid, and it’s the result of keeping bad company and going to pubs. What did he do it for?”
“If I were you I’d mind my own business, Reggie.”
“If it’s because she’s in the family way, he’s a bally ass. If I got in a mess like that, I’d see the lady shot before I married her.”
“I have some work to do, my friend,” said Frank shortly. “You would show discretion if you took yourself off.”