THE WHEELS OF CHANCE
"Well?" said Bechamel, wondering suddenly if Jessie had kept some of her threats. If so, he was in for an explanation. But he had it ready. She was a monomaniac. "Leave me alone with her," he would say; "I know how to calm her."
"Mrs. Beaumont," said Stephen.
"Well?"
"Has gone."
He rose with a fine surprise. "Gone!" he said with a half laugh.
"Gone, sir. On her bicycle."
"On her bicycle! Why?"
"She went, sir, with Another Gentleman."
This time Bechamel was really startled. "An—other Gentleman! Who?"
"Another gentleman in brown, sir. Went into the yard, sir, got out the two bicycles, sir, and went off, sir—about twenty minutes ago."
Bechamel stood with his eyes round and his knuckles on his hips. Stephen, watching him with immense enjoyment, speculated whether this abandoned husband would weep or curse, or rush off at once in furious pursuit. But as yet he seemed merely stunned.
"Brown clothes?" he said. "And fairish?
"A little like yourself, sir,—in the dark. The ostler, sir, Jim Duke———"
Bechamel laughed awry. Then with infinite fervour he said—but let us put in blank cartridge—he said, "——— ——— !
"I might have thought!"
He flung himself into the arm-chair.
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