THE BETTER SORT
"Understand, in that interest, the 'spattering' of another person?"
He coloured again, but he was sturdy. "It must of course be exactly the right person—a special type. Someone who, in the first place," he explained, "wouldn't mind, and of whom, in the second, she wouldn't be jealous."
I followed perfectly, but it struck me as important all round that we should be clear. "But wouldn't the danger be great that any woman who shouldn't have that effect—the effect of jealousy—upon her wouldn't have it either on your wife?"
"Ah," he acutely returned, "my wife wouldn't be warned. She wouldn't be 'in the know.'"
"I see." I quite caught up. "The two other ladies distinctly would."
But he seemed for an instant at a loss. "Wouldn't it be indispensable only as regards one?"
"Then the other would be simply sacrificed?"
"She would be," Brivet splendidly put it, "remunerated. I was pleased even with the sense of financial power betrayed by the way he said it, and I at any rate so took the measure of his intention of generosity and his characteristically big view of the matter that this quickly suggested to me what at least might be his exposure. "But suppose that, in spite of 'remuneration.' this secondary personage should perversely like you? She would have to be indeed, as you say, a special type, but even special types may have general feelings. Suppose she should like you too much."
It had pulled him up a little. "What do you mean by 'too much'?"
"Well, more than enough to leave the case quite as simple as you'd require it."
"Oh, money always simplifies. Besides, I should make a point of being a brute." And on my laughing at this: "I should pay her enough to keep her down,
100
