"Well, I got thinking last night that, as they have plenty of time—almost as much time as money—it seemed a pity that I should whirl them along the road to Paris at the rate planned originally. You see, though there are plenty of interesting places on the way mapped out—you've been to Tours, you say—"
"What of that?"
"Oh, the trip might as well be new for everybody except myself; and as you like adventures—"
"You think it's the Turnours' duty to have them."
"Just so. If only to punish her ladyship for grinding you down to fifty francs a month. What a reptile!"
"If she's a reptile, I'm a cat to plot against her."
"Do cats plot? Only against mice, I think. And anyhow, I'm doing all the plotting. I've felt a different man since yesterday. I've got something to live for."
"Oh, what?" The question asked itself.
"For a comrade in misfortune. And to see her to her journey's end. I suppose that end will be in Paris?"
"No-o," I said. "I rather think I shall go on all the way to England with Lady Turnour—if I can stand it. There's a person in England who will be kind to me."