"What for?" inquired the other, staring.
"To pave the way for me," said Hardy, raising his voice as he thought of his wrongs; "and now, owing to your confounded matrimonial business, that's all knocked on the head. I wouldn't care whom you married if it didn't interfere with my affairs so."
"Do you mean," inquired the astonished Mr. Nugent, "that you want to be on friendly terms with my father?"
"Yes."
Mr. Nugent gazed at him round-eyed. "You haven't had a blow on the head or anything of that sort at any time, have you?" he inquired.
Hardy shook his head impatiently. "You don't seem to suffer from an excess of intellect yourself," he retorted. "I don't want to be offensive again, still, I should think it is pretty plain there is only one reason why I should go out of my way to seek the society of your father."
"Say what you like about my intellect," replied the dutiful son, "but I can't think of even one—not even a small one. Not—Good gracious! You don't mean—you can't mean—"
Hardy looked at him.
"Not that," said Mr. Nugent, whose intellect had suddenly become painfully acute—"not her?"
"Why not?" inquired the other.