No instruction, no admonition, no blame, no reproach--only an
affectionately logical review of matters as they stood--and as they
threatened to stand.
The boy, fortunately, was still pliable and susceptible, still unalarmed
and frank. It seemed that he had lost money again--this time to Jack
Ruthven; and Selwyn's teeth remained sternly interlocked as, bit by bit,
the story came out. But in the telling the boy was not quite as frank as
he might have been; and Selwyn supposed he was able to stand his loss
without seeking aid.
"Anyway," said Gerald in a muffled voice, "I've learned one lesson--that
a business man can't acquire the habits and keep the infernal hours that
suit people who can take all day to sleep it off."
"Right," said Selwyn.
"Besides, my income can't stand it," added Gerald naively.
"Neither could mine, old fellow. And, Gerald, cut out this card
business; it's the final refuge of the feebleminded. . . . You like it?
Oh, well, if you've got to play--if you've no better resource for
leisure, and if non-participation isolates you too completely from other
idiots--play the imbecile gentleman's game; which means a game where
nobody need worry over the stakes.
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