Part 59 (2/2)
”What are you going to do, Lawrie?” unheeding him. ”Bob and I are going on to Dublin to-morrow--you come too--”
He strode into the dining-room without answering--and she followed him.
On the sideboard stood the spirit decanters as usual, and she saw his eye instantly turn to them, and a second later he had his hand upon the whisky.
Quickly she was at his side:
”Don't have any more, Lawrie,” pleadingly. ”You have had quite enough,”
and she placed her hand over his. For one moment he glared at her again, then let go, and sinking into a chair by the table, buried his face in his hands.
”Have you been playing billiards?” she asked, resting her hand on his shoulder.
”Yes.”
”For high sums, I suppose?”
”Yes.”
”I hope there isn't misery in some other house in Newry to-night, through you.”
”On the contrary, some of them must feel quite rich.”
”Then you lost?”
”Yes.”
”I'm very glad.”
”Thank you,” dryly.
Gwen stood looking at him, noting vaguely the lines that had deepened in his face, and wondering what to do.
”Lawrie.”
”Yes.”
”Your mother is ill. She fainted, and Bob carried her upstairs.”
He winced, but his face did not soften.
”You must have behaved like a blackguard to her,” and there was a tremor of intense feeling in Gwen's voice.
”It's quite likely. But I warned her--why did she come in? I told her not to, and she has known me long enough.”
”I wonder what Paddy would think of it?”
He ground his teeth.
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