opeless feeling of having completely done with life could be his,
seeing that he was still in his prime. Formerly eager, sanguine,
warm-hearted, glowing with good impulses; now indifferent, sceptical,
with a heart of stone and the chronic sneer of a cynic.

He was one of those men who seem born never to succeed. With everything
in his favour apparently, Laurence Stanninghame never did succeed.
Everything he touched seemed to go wrong. If he speculated, whether it
was a half-crown bet or a thousand-pound investment, smash went the
concern. He was of an inventive turn and had patented--of course at
considerable expenditure--a thing or two; but by some crafty twist of
the law's subtle rascalities, others had managed to reap the benefit. He
had tried his hand at writing, but press and publisher alike shied at
him. He was too bitter, too bold, too sweeping, too thorough. So he
threw that, as he had thrown other things, in sheer disgust and
hopelessness.

Now he was going to cast in the net for a final effort, and already his
spirits began to revive at the thought. Any faint spark of lingering
sentiment, if any there were, was quenched in the thought that the turn
of the wheel might bring good luck, but it was impossible it could
strand him in worse case. For the sentimental side of it--separation,
long absence--well, the droop of the cynical corners of the mouth became
more emphasized at the recollection of that faded old figment, "home,
sweet home," and glowing aspirations after the so-called holy and pure
joys of the family circle; whereas the reality, a sort of Punch and Judy
show at best. No, there was no sentimental side to this undertaking.

Yet Laurence Stanninghame's partner in life was by no means a bad sort
of a woman. She had plenty of redeeming qualities, in that she was
good-hearted at bottom and well-meaning, and withal a most devoted
mother. But she had a tongue and a temper, together with an exceedingly
injudicious, not to say foolish twist of mind; and this combination,
other good points notwithstanding, the quality which should avail to
redeem has hitherto remained undiscoverable in any live human being.
Furthermore, she owned a will. When two wills come into contact the
weakest goes under, and that soon. Then there may be peace. In this case
neither went under, because, presumably, evenly balanced.
Result--warfare, incessant, chronic.

Having finished his pipe, Laurence Stanninghame got out a hat and an