Part 54 (1/2)

'I take nothing for granted,' he said coldly. 'But I'm afraid nothing is to be gained by a discussion of our difficulties. The time for that is over.

'I can't quite see that. It seems to me that the time has just come.'

'Please tell me, to begin with, do you come on Amy's behalf?'

'In a way, yes. She hasn't sent me, but my mother and I are so astonished at what is happening that it was necessary for one or other of us to see you.'

'I think it is all between Amy and myself.'

'Difficulties between husband and wife are generally best left to the people themselves, I know. But the fact is, there are peculiar circ.u.mstances in the present case. It can't be necessary for me to explain further.'

Reardon could find no suitable words of reply. He understood what Yule referred to, and began to feel the full extent of his humiliation.

'You mean, of course--' he began; but his tongue failed him.

'Well, we should really like to know how long it is proposed that Amy shall remain with her mother.'

John was perfectly self-possessed; it took much to disturb his equanimity. He smoked his cigarette, which was in an amber mouthpiece, and seemed to enjoy its flavour. Reardon found himself observing the perfection of the young man's boots and trousers.

'That depends entirely on my wife herself;' he replied mechanically.

'How so?'

'I offer her the best home I can.'

Reardon felt himself a poor, pitiful creature, and hated the well-dressed man who made him feel so.

'But really, Reardon,' began the other, uncrossing and recrossing his legs, 'do you tell me in seriousness that you expect Amy to live in such lodgings as you can afford on a pound a week?'

'I don't. I said that I had offered her the best home I could. I know it's impossible, of course.'

Either he must speak thus, or break into senseless wrath. It was hard to hold back the angry words that were on his lips, but he succeeded, and he was glad he had done so.

'Then it doesn't depend on Amy,' said John.

'I suppose not.'

'You see no reason, then, why she shouldn't live as at present for an indefinite time?'

To John, whose perspicacity was not remarkable, Reardon's changed tone conveyed simply an impression of bland impudence. He eyed his brother-in-law rather haughtily.

'I can only say,' returned the other, who was become wearily indifferent, 'that as soon as I can afford a decent home I shall give my wife the opportunity of returning to me.'

'But, pray, when is that likely to be?'

John had pa.s.sed the bounds; his manner was too frankly contemptuous.

'I see no right you have to examine me in this fas.h.i.+on,' Reardon exclaimed. 'With Mrs Yule I should have done my best to be patient if she had asked these questions; but you are not justified in putting them, at all events not in this way.'

'I'm very sorry you speak like this, Reardon,' said the other, with calm insolence. 'It confirms unpleasant ideas, you know.'