Edward watched a ring of smoke that floated from his cigar into the still, scented air.
"I suppose he is a pretty unmitigated rascal," he said at last. "And I can't flatter myself that any repentance for his misdeeds offers one an excuse for condoning them. He was a swindler and a hypocrite. You can't get away from it. I never met a more agreeable companion. He's taught me everything I know."
"What has he taught you?" cried Bateman in amazement.
"How to live."
Bateman broke into ironical laughter.
"A fine master. Is it owing to his lessons that you lost the chance of making a fortune and earn your living now by serving behind a counter in a ten cent store?"
"He has a wonderful personality," said Edward, smiling good-naturedly. "Perhaps you'll see what I mean to-night."
"I'm not going to dine with him if that's what you mean. Nothing would induce me to set foot within that man's house."
"Come to oblige me, Bateman. We've been friends for so many years, you won't refuse me a favour when I ask it."
Edward's tone had in it a quality new to Bateman. Its gentleness was singularly persuasive.