his cigar.

'Get the whip hand of her,' snarled Slivers, viciously; 'find out if
she's in love, and threaten to divorce her if she doesn't go
halves.'

'There's no chance of her having any lovers,' retorted Villiers;
'she's a piece of ice.'

'Ice melts,' replied Slivers, quickly. 'Wait till "Mr Right" comes
along, and then she'll begin to regret being married to you, and
then--'

'Well?'

'You'll have the game in your own hands,' hissed the wicked old man,
rubbing his hands. 'Oh!' he cried, spinning round on his wooden leg,
'it's a lovely idea. Wait till we meet "Mr Right", just wait,' and
he dropped into his chair quite overcome by the state of excitement
he had worked himself into.

'If you've quite done with those gymnastics, my friend,' said a soft
voice near the door, 'perhaps I may enter.'

Both the inmates of the office looked up at this, and saw that two
men were standing at the half-open door--one an extremely handsome
young man of about thirty, dressed in a neat suit of blue serge, and
wearing a large white wide-awake hat, with a bird's-eye handkerchief
twisted round it. His companion was short and heavily built, dressed
somewhat the same, but with his black hat pulled down over his eyes.