neither of the Englishmen said anything. Mr. Kennard, his head thrown back, his pipe between his teeth, puffed clouds of smoke towards the ceiling. He was the first to speak.
"Not a very genial invitation—eh, William?"
"My dear Hugh, what it is to be heavy-footed. Did you happen to observe that the fellow was half beside himself with trouble?"
"I did. Because you are as blind as a bat it doesn't follow that we all are." Pause; more smoke. "Should you say that the trouble is with his wife, or with his money?"
"My experience teaches me that when a man has trouble with his money he also, as a matter of course, has trouble with his wife."
CHAPTER III.
M. and Mdme. Gerbert lived, it seemed, au cinquième. Mr. Kennard and Mr. Nash were conscious that, as they mounted higher, they seemed to be leaving even cleanliness behind them. The last staircase was in a state of almost dangerous dilapidation. The plaster was coming in great patches off the wall. Mr. Kennard hesitated before he knocked at the unpromising-looking door.
"If I had had any idea that things were so bad as this with him," he murmured, "hang me if I would have suggested coming. What a brute he must suppose I am."
Mr. Nash was, as he was too apt to be, sententious.
