third party to quarrel with a buzz-saw than to interfere between
husband and wife; and Steve was constitutionally averse to anything
that savoured of butting in.
Still, Kirk had turned the talk into this channel. He decided to risk
it.
'If I were you,' he said, 'I'd get busy and start something.'
'Such as what?'
Steve decided to abandon caution and speak his mind. Him, almost as
much as Kirk, the existing state of things had driven to desperation.
Though in a sense he was only a spectator, the fact that the altered
conditions of Kirk's life involved his almost complete separation from
Mamie gave him what might be called a stake in the affair. The brief
and rare glimpses which he got of her nowadays made it absolutely
impossible for him to conduct his wooing on a business-like basis. A
diffident man cannot possibly achieve any success in odd moments.
Constant propinquity is his only hope.
That fact alone, he considered, almost gave him the right to interfere.
And, apart from that, his affection for Kirk and Ruth gave him a claim.
Finally, he held what was practically an official position in the
family councils on the strength of being William Bannister Winfield's
godfather.
He loved William Bannister as a son, and it had been one of his
favourite day dreams to conjure up a vision of the time when he should
be permitted to undertake the child's physical training. He had toyed
lovingly with the idea of imparting to this promising pupil all that he
knew of the greatest game on earth. He had watched him in the old days
staggering about the studio, and had pictured him grown to his full
strength, his muscles trained, his brain full of the wisdom of one who,
if his mother had not kicked, would have been middle-weight champion of
America.
He had resigned himself to the fact that the infant's social status
made it impossible that he should be the real White Hope whom he had
once pictured beating all comers in the roped ring; but, after all,
there was a certain mild fame to be acquired even by an amateur. And
now that dream was over, unless Kirk could be goaded into strong action
in time.
'Why don't you sneak the kid away somewhere?' he suggested. 'Why don't
you go right in at them and say: 'It's my kid, and I'm going to take
him away into the country out of all this white-tile stuff and let him
roll in the mud same as he used to.' Why, say, there's that shack of
yours in Connecticut, just made for it. That kid would have the time of
his life there.'
'You think that's the solution, do you, Steve?'
'I'm dead sure it is.' Steve's voice became more and more enthusiastic
as the idea unfolded itself. 'Why, it ain't only the kid I'm thinking
of. There's Miss Ruth. Say, you don't mind me pulling this line of
talk?'
'Go ahead. I began it. What about Miss Ruth?'
'Well, you know just what's the matter with her. She's let this society
