“It is usual.”
“Or references?”
“Well, that depends, of couse{sic}, upon the references.”
“Not that it matters much,” said I. (Heaven forgive me!) “Still, if it is the same to the firm, I may as well pay by the quarter, as I shall do afterwards.”
“What names did you propose to give?” he asked.
My heart gave a bound, for I knew that all was right. My uncle, as you know, won his knighthood in the Artillery, and though I have seen nothing of him, I knew that he was the man to pull me out of this tight corner.
“There’s my uncle, Sir Alexander Munro, Lismore House, Dublin,” said I. “He would be happy to answer any inquiry, and so would my friend Dr. Cullingworth of Bradfield.”
I brought him down with both barrels. I could see it by his eyes and the curve of his back.
“I have no doubt that that will be quite satisfactory,” said he. “Perhaps you would kindly sign the agreement.”
I did so, and drew my hind foot across the Rubicon. The die was cast. Come what might, 1 Oakley Villas was on my hand for a twelve-month.