in the least to me."

So James had his little whack, after all.

CHAPTER XV

JAMES

James, hardly knowing it, was bracing himself for a serious situation.
He had a keen eye for a man, a feeling for style; in his judgment
Urquhart was momentous, so much so that he could not afford to be
irritated. Jealousy to him was a weakness, only pardonable when the
cause was trivial. It had been trivial with poor Lingen. Fishing in
heavy water, a skipjack snaps at your fly, and you jerk him out to
bank with a Devil take you. But the swirling shoulder, the long ridge
across the pool, and the steady strain: you are into a twelve-pounder,
and the Devil is uninvoked.

He asked Jimmy to lunch at his club, and took the candid line about
the Norwegian project. Lucy was desperately tired, he said, so he was
pleased with the scheme. The poor dear girl was run down, the fact
was. "You are very good for her, I believe. You exhilarate her; she
forgets her troubles. She admires audacity--from the bank."

"I'll be as audacious as you please," said Jimmy.

"Oh, you won't take me in," James said. "I'm an old hand. I know my
Urquhart. But Lucy will expect feats of strength. You are a champion."

"D---- your eyes!" said Urquhart to himself.

"The boy is one of your slaves, too. I can't tell you how contented I
am that you approve of him."

"He's all right," said Urquhart, who didn't like all this. James, on
the contrary, liked it awfully. He became a chatterbox.

"He's more than that in his mother's esteem. But Lucy's a wise mother.
She moves with her finger on her lip. And that, mind you, without
coddling. She'll risk him to the hair's-breadth--and never a word. But
she won't risk herself. Not she! Why, she might be wanted! But there
it is. Women can do these things, God knows how! It's men who make a
fuss. Well, well--but I babble."

"My dear man," said Urquhart, "not at all. It's a thing you never do."

Thus encouraged, James plugged onwards. He talked more of himself and
his affairs than he had ever done in his life before; expatiated upon
his growing business, assumed his guest's contentment in his
happiness, invited praise of his Lucy, and was not rebuffed at their
denial. Urquhart, at first amused, ended by being annoyed. He felt as
if James was a busy dwarf engaged in tying him up in lengths of black
cotton. Round and round he went, coil after coil was added; before
luncheon was over he could move neither hand nor foo