"I've had no rise in my income, but I'm going to do it."
He was not really listening. He gave a feeble cackle of a laugh. "I'm just making a few calculations, Miss Wilson." On he went, apportioning every penny of that hard-earned increase of twenty pounds per annum. Valuable—but not enough to enable him to teach true history.
Major Merriam sauntered towards her with his cigar. He was really rather eager, but he did not look it. The invitation might be merely a tardy apology for the snubs of yesterday.
"May I sit down by you?"
"Please do. Have you seen the Times?"
"I looked through the lot of them."
"Have you seen this one—the 26th?" She held up her copy.
"I suppose I have. I had a run through them all."
"Read that." Her finger indicated the report.
He read it; the process did not take long. He took his cigar out of his mouth. "Well, Miss Wilson?"