H. B. Marriott Watson

“ But the longer one lives the more insoluble such problems are. When I made their acquaintance they had been married ten years, were childless, and lived in a fringe of smart society with nothing particular to do and plenty of money to do it on. Mrs. Whitwell received admiration and inhaled it as incense; she made an appeal to artistic and semi-Bohemian tastes rather than to those of the average sensual man; which was one of the reasons why I was surprised to find her so much with Carew. Carew was obviously a fine, healthy animal, with good lungs, clear blue eyes, and little or no conscience. ”

“ Carew, isn’t it?” she asked.
I made a point of demurring. “No,” I said, “I don’t think so. All young men are influenced to some extent by the hoardings. It takes middle age to know its own mind and tastes.” ”

“ Over a little whisky and soda in his smoking-room we were discussing the merits of a current play which had provoked some consideration of a moral problem.
“I don’t know,” said Whitwell, breaking a pause, “I fancy he wasn’t right. After all, he couldn’t know what she was doing, however much he might—well, wonder.” ”

“ I paused and admired with the two looking on, and probably at me, and, as I have said, I alone seemed to display any awkwardness. Carew had passed it off like a gentleman, anyway.
The discovery rendered me slightly uncomfortable, and, moreover, I felt somewhat responsible. I could not now but be conscious of a drama developing darkly under my nose, so to speak. I liked Whitwell. He was very ordinary, but very decent. He had plenty of money, but did not use it like a “bounder,” as many rich folk do. ”

“ Carew rang the bell, and ordered a fresh supply of drinks for his guests. He himself had recourse to the whisky frequently. He was a little noisy for the etiquette of the card-room. We won the rubber, and he laughed.
“We do pretty well together, Tyrwhitt,” he said. “It’s a pity——” the cut shifted us, and I found Marshall, my partner, a somewhat imperturbable young man. “Well, now we're at it,” said Carew, tossing off the remains of a draught. He turned to the table with the air of one who had taken off his coat. Tothill dealt——
I don’t think I shall ever forget that rubber! ”

“ The thing hadn’t any real relation to his case, but what he said seemed to invest it with particularity, and with a particularity that was personal to him.
“Of course not,” I said uncomfortably.
“Things are not always what they seem,” said poor Whitwell with a smile, and I knew that he had himself connected up the thought by his next words, which followed after another silence. He looked at his watch.
“Peggy will be here soon. I expect Carew will be bringing her. You'll wait, won’t you?” ”

“ I’m pretty much of a worldling, I daresay, but I don’t know how far I should like to stand in the way of a grand passion of elemental feelings. Their force and influence are, I think, a little outside my comprehension, outside, at any rate, my sphere. ”

“ But the incessant misunderstandings and entanglement of a farce make one feel quite young again. I believe I wiped my streaming eyes when the sentimental hero fell into the bath. However, that is of minor and only personal importance. What matters to this narrative is that I saw away by the left Mrs. Whitwell and Carew, the former laughing with as hearty a gusto as myself. ”

“ It’s only too old a story, and will be, alas, until our sex—— You trick an unfortunate, helpless woman into believing she cares for you, and get her to throw over all her obligations and duties for your sake. ”

“ I said, aware of my flushed face. “I can assure you, my dear lady, that never in this world have I kept any watch upon you. It was by accident I was at the Savoy last night; it was——”
“By accident you are here now with a trumpery excuse,” she interjected in scorn.
She had got inside my guard then with a vengeance. I had come of set purpose, and with a trumpery excuse. Anyone overlooking this scene would have decided that I was the culprit in it, and I don’t know that he would have been far wrong. I anathematised my silly blunder in taking a hand in an affair which didn’t concern me. ”

“ He had told me his wife was at the opera at the outset, and he did not mention her again until we had the port on the table.
“My wife’s with the Clares,” he said casually then, “Know them? They’ve got a box.”
“I’ve met them,” I said, with my mind on the fact that the Clares were cousins of Carew.
“Not bad,” said Whitwell, eyeing his cigar, “but a bit too raffish for me.”
“The sort of people who make a trail for themselves anywhere,” I said. “Well, that’s individuality, and has its qualities,”
It was precisely the individuality, I knew, at which Whitwell winced ”