He
had no more ready money to go anywhere else; he would have to borrow
from Archie the next club-night; and ill as he thought of his host's
manners, he was sure of his practical generosity. Frank's resemblance
to Talleyrand strikes me as imaginary; but at least not Talleyrand
himself could have more obediently taken his lesson from the facts. He
met Archie at dinner without resentment, almost with cordiality. You
must take your friends as you find them, he would have said. Archie
couldn't help being his father's son, or his grandfather's, the
hypothetical weaver's, grandson. The son of a hunks, he was still a
hunks at heart, incapable of true generosity and consideration; but he
had other qualities with which Frank could divert himself in the
meanwhile, and to enjoy which it was necessary that Frank should keep
his temper.
So excellently was it controlled that he awoke next morning with his
head full of a different, though a cognate subject. What was Archie's
little game? Why did he shun Frank's company? What was he keeping
secret? Was he keeping tryst with somebody, and was it a woman? It
would be a good joke and a fair revenge to discover.
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