You had no business to mix up with her in the first place, Abel Morris asserted with a great deal of heat, Ambrose noted. You got a son, you tell me, and there's his mother. I can't see . . .
We can't get anywhere discussing it, Denis interrupted impatiently.
Remember, Ambrose put in meekly in the interests of fair play, you asked for advice.
I asked for good advice. This advice isn't so hot. What have my son and his mother got to do with the case?
What's the girl got to do with it? Abel Morris demanded passionately. That's what I'd like to know. What's she got to do with it? You got to play square by your wife and . . .
Oh well, I guess it'll straighten itself out somehow, Denis replied flippantly. He yawned.
It won't straighten itself out unless you straighten it, shot out Abel Morris.
To put a stop to this futile discussion Ambrose asked for another drink and clumsily introduced a new topic. He was amazed to find with what intuition Abel Morris caught his intention and followed his lead. At the same time it was apparent that the man was making a supreme effort to control himself.
