They had come to the stream by now, and crossed the little bridge into the wood.

“Oh, there’s not much more. ’Tis only that something must be done, for Carew won’t wait, and stap me if I’d ask him, the lean-faced scarecrow!⁠—so I came to you, Dick.”

He let go Richard’s arm and flung himself down on a fallen tree-trunk, regardless of velvet and laces.

“You’re a good fellow, and you don’t lecture a man as Tracy does, devil take him! And you play high yourself, or you did, though ’tis an age since I saw you win or lose enough to wink at. And, after all, you’re Lavvy’s husband, and⁠—oh, damn it all, Dick, ’tis monstrous hard to ask you!”

Carstares, leaning against a tree, surveyed the youthful rake amusedly.