Mr. Keith,
who confessed to a vein of coarseness in his nature--prided himself upon
it and, in fact, cultivated insensitiveness as other people cultivate
orchids, pronouncing it to be the best method of self-protection in a
world infested with fools--Mr. Keith sometimes could not resist the
temptation of raking up the ashes surreptitiously, after an elaborate,
misleading preamble. He loved to watch his friend's meekly perplexed
face on such occasions.
Heaven knows how long the affair might have lasted but for the fact
that a husband, or somebody, unexpectedly turned up--a husky little man
with a cast in one eye, who looked uxorious to an alarming degree. He
carried her off in the nick of time to save Mr. Eames from social
ostracism, mental dotage, and financial ruin. Her mere appearance had
made him the laughing-stock of the place; her appetite had led him into
outlays altogether incompatible with his income, chiefly in the matter
of pastries, macaroons, fondants, ices, caramels, chocolates, jam
tartlets and, above all, meringues, to which she was fabulously
destructive.
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