d you think
of my turning respectable, Marsh? Would you be among the first to extend
the warm right hand of fellowship?"

"Oh, you are respectable enough, Andy!" said Langham.

He seemed vastly relieved at the turn the conversation had taken. He
leaned back in his chair and thrust his hands in his trousers pockets.

"Say, why can't I put myself where I want to be? What's the matter with
my style, anyhow? It's as good as yours any day, Marsh; and no one ever
saw me drunk--that is a whole lot more than can be said of you; and yet
you stand in with the best people, you go to houses where I'd be thrown
out if I as much as stuck my nose inside the door!"

"Your style's all right, Andy!" Langham hastened to assure him.

"Well, it's as good as yours any day!"

"Better!" said Langham, laughing.

"Well, what's the matter with it, then?" persisted Gilmore.

"There's a good deal of it sometimes, it's rather oppressive--" said the
lawyer.

"I'll fix that," said Gilmore shortly.

"I would if I wanted what you seem to think you want," replied Langham
chuckling.

"Marsh, I'm dead serious; I'm sick of being outside all the good things.
I know plenty of respectable fellows, fellows like you; but I want to
know respectable women; why can't I?"

"If you hanker for it, you can; it's up to you, Andy," said Langham.

The gambler appeared very ingenuous in this new role of his.

"Look here, Marsh, I've never asked anything of you, and you must admit
that I've done you one or two good turns; now I'm going to ask a favor
of you and I don't expect to be refused; fact is, I ain't going to take
a refusal--"

"What is it, Andy?" asked Langham cautiously, "I want you to introduce
me to your wife."

"The hell you do!" ejaculated Langham.

The gambler's brow darkened.

"What do you mean by that?" he demanded angrily.

"Nothing, I was only thinking of Mrs. Langham's probable attitude in the
matter, that was all."

"You mean you think she won't want to meet me?" and in spite of himself
Gilmore's voice sounded strained and unnatural.

"I'm _sure_ she won't," said Langham with cruel candor.

"Well," observed Gilmore coolly, "I'm going to put my case in your
hands, Marsh; you come to my rooms, you drink my whisky, and smoke my
cigars and borrow my money; now I'm going to make a new deal with you.
I'm going to know your wife. I like her style--she and I'll get on fine
together, once we know each other. You make it plain to her th