The Monkey’s Paw / Обезьянья лапа

Play, which had been of a half-hearted nature, was over, and they sat at the open window, looking out over the park stretching away beneath them, conversing idly.

“Your time's nearly up, Jem,” said one at length, “this time six weeks you'll be yawning out the honeymoon and cursing the man – woman I mean- who invented them.”

Jem Benson stretched his long limbs in the chair and grunted in dissent.

“I've never understood it,” continued Wilfred Carr, yawning. “It's not in my line at all; I never had enough money for my own wants, let alone for two.

There was just sufficient meaning in the latter part of the remark for his cousin to forbear to reply to it. He continued to gaze out of the window and to smoke slowly.

“Not being as rich as Croesus – or you,” resumed Carr, regarding him from beneath lowered lids, “I paddle my own canoe down the stream of Time, and, tying it to my friends' door-posts, go in to eat their dinners.

“Quite Venetian,” said Jem Benson, still looking out of the window. “It's not a bad thing for you, Wilfred, that you have the doorposts and dinners – and friends.”

Carr grunted in his turn. “Seriously though, Jem,” he said, slowly, “you're a lucky fellow, a very lucky fellow. If there is a better girl above ground than Olive, I should like to see her.”

“Yes,” said the other, quietly.

“She's such an exceptional girl,” continued Carr, staring out of the window.

He laughed frankly and joyously, but the other man did not join him. “Strong sense – of right and wrong, though,” continued Carr, musingly. “Do you know, I believe that if she found out that you were not-”

“Not what?” demanded Benson, turning upon him fiercely, “Not what?”

“Everything that you are,” returned his cousin, with a grin that belied his words, “I believe she'd drop you.

“Talk about something else,” said Benson, slowly; “your pleasantries are not always in the best taste.”

Wilfred Carr rose and taking a cue from the rack, bent over the board and practiced one or two favourite shots. “The only other subject I can talk about just at present is my own financial affairs,” he said slowly, as he walked round the table.

“Talk about something else,” said Benson again, bluntly.