“Not from the moral point of view.”
“Oh, damn morals,” said he.
She laughed in spite of her distress. It was so characteristic of the man. If anything got in his way, he just damned it, and regarded it as non-existent.
He moved restlessly about; then, catching sight of his discarded coat and waistcoat, plunged savagely into them, as though he were going in pursuit of the erring pair.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said, abandoning half-way the furious buttoning of his waistcoat. “That’s the devil of it, there’s nothing to be done.”
At that moment Quong Ho discreetly appeared at the door.
“Will you have particular need of my services for the next hour?”
“Yes, of course I shall. Look there!” Baltazar flung a hand towards the paper-strewn table. “We go to press this evening.”
Quong Ho consulted his watch. “I am sorry then, for I don’t know how I shall proceed. I promised Captain Godfrey to take his bag to the railway station at five o’clock.”