“If it’s about me goin’ straight, sonny, while ye’re away, I’ll swear to God not to look so much as on the same side o’ the street as a drop o’ liquor till He brings ye back to me.”
“Then I believe He will bring me back, old fellow.”
“Sure He’ll bring ye back. Ye’ll be ’ome before Christmas; and, Slim, if it isn’t goin’ to cost ye too much money, won’t ye ’old on to them rooms so as I can keep our little place together, like, and ’ave it all clean and nice for you—?”
Having consented to this, I was able to make further provision for the old man when Cantyre joined me for a day or two in Montreal to bid me good-by. Lovey’s heroism was the sort of thing to draw out Cantyre’s sentimental vein of approval.
“I’ll take him and look after him, Frank. He’ll valet me till you come back. I’ve always wanted a man to do that sort of thing, and only haven’t had one because I thought it would look like putting on side. But now that he drops down to me out of heaven, as you might say, I’ll take him as a souvenir of you.”
CHAPTER XIX
All these interests had seemed far away from me during the two and a half years over there; but in proportion as I drew near Liverpool that morning they reformed themselves in the mists of the near future, as old memories come back with certain scents and scenes. Not till the damp, smoky haze of the great port was closing in round me did I realize that my more active part in the vast cosmic episode was at an end, and that I had come to the hour I had so often longed for—and was going home.