Part 50 (1/2)

”Yep. And I'll say it again. I'll go on saying it till you've done it.”

”'Well, if that's all you've got to offer as a suggestion for a way out--”

But Mr. Twist wasn't angry this time; he was too much battered by events; he hadn't the spirits to be angry.

”You've--got to--marry--one--of--those--girls,” said the lawyer, at each word smiting the table with his open palm. ”Turn her into an American.

Get her out of this being a German business. And be able at the same time to protect the one who'll be your sister in-law. Why, even if you didn't want to, which is sheer nonsense, for of course any man would want to--I know what I'm talking about because I've seen them--it's your plain duty, having got them into this mess.”

”But--marry which?” asked Mr. Twist, with increased helplessness and yet a manifest profound anxiety for further advice.

For the first time the lawyer showed impatience ”Oh--either or both,” he said. ”For G.o.d's sake don't be such a--”

He pulled up short.

”I didn't quite mean that,” he resumed, again calm. ”The end of that sentence was, as no doubt you guess, fool. I withdraw it, and will subst.i.tute something milder. Have you any objection to ninny?”

No, Mr. Twist didn't mind ninny, or any other word the lawyer might choose, he was in such a condition of mental groping about. He took out his handkerchief and wiped away the beads on his forehead and round his mouth.

”I'm thirty-five,” he said, looking terribly worried.

Propose to an Anna? The lawyer may have seen them, but he hadn't heard them; and the probable nature of their comments if Mr. Twist proposed to them--to one, he meant of course, but both would comment, the one he proposed to and the one he didn't--caused his imagination to reel. He hadn't much imagination; he knew that now, after his conduct of this whole affair, but all there was of it reeled.

”I'm thirty-five,” he said helplessly.

”Pooh,” said the lawyer, indicating the negligibleness of this by a movement of his shoulder.

”They're seventeen,” said Mr. Twist.

”Pooh,” said the lawyer again, again indicating negligibleness. ”My wife was--”

”I know. You told me that last time. Oh, I know all _that_” said Mr.

Twist with sudden pa.s.sion. ”But these are children. I tell you they're _children_--”

”Pooh,” said the lawyer a third time, a third time indicating negligibleness.

Then he got up and held out his hand. ”Well, I've told you,” he said.

”You wanted to know, and I've told you. And I'll tell you one thing more, Mr. Twist. Whichever of those girls takes you, you'll have the sweetest, prettiest wife of any man in the world except one, and that's the man who has the luck to get the other one. Why, sweetest and prettiest are poor words. She'll be the most delectable, the most--”

Mr. Twist rose from his chair in such haste that he pushed the table crooked. His ears flamed.

”See here,” he said very loud. ”I won't have you talk familiarly like that about my wife.”

CHAPTER x.x.xVI

Wife. The word had a remarkable effect on him. It churned him all up.

His thoughts were a chaotic jumble, and his driving on the way home matched them. He had at least three narrow shaves at cross streets before he got out of the town and for an entire mile afterwards he was on the wrong side of the road. During this period, deep as he was in confused thought, he couldn't but vaguely notice the anger on the faces of the other drivers and the variety and fury of their gesticulations, and it roused a dim wonder in him.

Wife. How arid existence had been for him up to then in regard to the affections, how k.n.o.bbly the sort of kisses he had received in Clark.