"It's rather cool of Phipps," he said, after a long silence; "rather
cool, I think, to go out of the world and just leave his wife to you to
look after. Some men wouldn't stand it. You're too easy-going, Bob,
that's what's the matter with you."

Mr. Clarkson sighed.

"And get took advantage of," added his friend.

"It's all very well to talk," said Mr. Clarkson, "but what can I do? I
ought to have spoke up at the time. It's too late now."

"If I was you," said his friend very earnestly, "and didn't want to marry
her, I should tell her so. Say what you like it ain't fair to her you
know. It ain't fair to the pore woman. She'd never forgive you if she
found it out."

"Everybody's taking it for granted," said the other.

"Let everybody look after their own business," said Mr. Smithson, tartly.
"Now, look here, Bob; suppose I get you out of this business, how am I to
be sure you'll leave your property to me?--not that I want it. Suppose
you altered your will?"

"If you get me out of it, every penny I leave will go to you," said Mr.
Clarkson, fervently. "I haven't got any relations, and it don't matter
in the slightest to me who has it after I'm gone."

"As true as you stand there?" demanded the other, eyeing him fixedly.