“What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece. ‘Don’t be silly. ’ ‘Your husband?’ Gerald tutted. ’ She released the pistol which lay in her lap and gestured expressively with her hands. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky. " He approached the bed and laid his palm on the patient's forehead, and nodded. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. This fruit was McClintock's particular pride. Had he been listening inside? ‘What is amiss?’ ‘That Frenchie, sir.
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