it was alive, and I ought to have been glad, because the man was my friend. But all the same, if it had moved I should have gone mad.”
“Yes,” said Edward; “that’s just exactly it.”
Vincent called for a second absinthe.
“But a dead body’s different to wax-works,” he said. “I can’t understand any one being frightened of them.”
“Oh, can’t you?” The contempt in the other’s tone stung him. “I bet you wouldn’t spend a night alone in that place.”
“I bet you five pounds I do!”
“Done!” said Edward briskly. “At least, I would if you’d got five pounds.”
“But I have. I’m simply rolling. I’ve sold my Dejanira, didn’t you know? I shall win your money, though, anyway. But you couldn’t do it, old man. I suppose you’ll never outgrow that childish scare.”
“You might shut up about that,” said Edward shortly.
“Oh, it’s nothing to be ashamed of; some women are afraid of mice or spiders. I say, does Rose know you’re a coward?”
“Vincent!”
“No offence, old boy. One may as well