Page:Restless Earth.djvu/156

Mrs. Langham collapsed in earnest. She sat upon a benzine case and wept in bitter humiliation.

“I don’t know what I have done to deserve such treatment,” she complained. “I have always done my best for everybody, and this is my reward. Embroiled in a vulgar brawl—deserted by my husand———”

The old friends stood about her in a state of indecision. The mention of the criminal court had frightened them and shaken their allegiance. It was very awkward. There were faults on both sides no doubt, but———

With the last of his courage Percival Langham crossed to the door and spoke over his shoulder as he left hurriedly.

“Serves you damn well right, Queenie!” he said, and fled.

It was a narrow shave, he told himself. Another minute and he would never have been able to muster the courage to get out.

“Great girl!” he muttered admiringly, as he took a “bracer” in the Criterion Bar. ‘“A real Briton! Here’s her health.”

“Drinking alone?” a friend called to him from the other end of the room.

“No. I’m drinking with a fellow I had given up as dead.”

As he left the bar his friend made a significant gesture, and the bar-tender laughed.

The third, and final, round opened with the arrival of Mr. Joseph Ezekiel.

The gentleman, short and rotund, full of energy and alive with the curious mannerisms of his race, middle-aged and wealthy, ill-favoured of feature and hearty of voice, burst into the collecting-depot of No. 2