Every man is like every woman; he is vulnerable if you can discover
the right spot and the right weapons. Mr. Aynesworth is not a woman's
man, but I fancy that he is ambitious. I thought that you might go and
see him. He has rooms somewhere in Dorset Street."
He rose to his feet. A glance at the clock reminded him of the hour.
"I will go," he said. "I will do what I can. I think, dear," he added,
bending over her to say farewell, "that you should have been the man!"
She laughed softly.
"Am I such a failure as a woman, then?" she asked with a swift upward
glance. "Don't be foolish, Lumley. My woman will be here to dress me
directly. You must really go away."
He strode down the stairs with tingling pulses, and drove to the
House, where his speech, a little florid in its rhetoric, and verbose
as became the man, was nevertheless a great success.
"Quite a clever fellow, Barrington," one of his acquaintances
remarked, "when you get him away from his wife."
A FORLORN HOPE
Aynesworth ceased tugging at the strap of his portmanteau, and rose
slowly to his feet. A visitor had entered his rooms--apparently
unannounced.
"I must apologize," the newcomer said, "for my intrusion. Your
housekeeper, I presume it was, whom I saw below, told me to come up."
Aynesworth pushed forward a chair.
"Won't you sit down?" he said. "I believe that I am addressing Mr.
Lumley Barrington."
Not altogether without embarrassment, Barrington seated himself.
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