"Keep her waiting?" said Savile. "Of course I shall. It's a very good plan." He got up and took his hat. "Makes them more keen. Don't you find it so?"
"In my unfortunate experience nothing makes them keen at all, unless, of course, it's some one one doesn't want. And then everything does."
"Hard luck!" said Savile, shaking his head wisely, and took his leave, thinking with a smile that Wilton, having obviously got the chuck, was trying to keep in favour by playing the good friend. "He's not half a bad chap," thought Savile. "And I'll send that wire; it's a good idea."
He stood under a lamp at the corner of Half-Moon Street and counted his money.
"Confound it, I've only got a bob! It'll just pay for a cab to Aunt William's."
Thoroughly enjoying this exciting and adventurous life of diplomacy, he arrived at his aunt's. She was dressing for dinner. Nevertheless, for Savile, she came downstairs in a magenta wrapper.
"I hope there's nothing wrong, my dear boy," she said.
"No, everything's quite all right. But—you know what you gave me the other day, Aunt William?"
"Yes, dear."
"Sorry to say it's all gone."