“I could have some Masses said for her.”
“Are you a Catholic?” the priest asked.
“No; but I fancy I shall be a Catholic,” Michael said; and as he spoke it was like a rushing wind. He hurried out into the passage where a nun passed him in the gloom. “She will be praying,” Michael thought, and, looking back over his shoulder, he said:
“Pray for me, Sister.”
The nun was evidently startled by the voice, and went on quickly down the three steps and up the other into Mrs. Smith’s den.
Michael climbed upstairs to interview the Solutionist. He found him lying in bed.
“Why wasn’t that money paid regularly?” he asked severely.
“Who is it?” the Solutionist muttered, in fuddled accents. “Wanted the money myself. Had a glorious time. The cat’s all right, and the poor old rabbits are dead. Can’t give everybody a good time. Somebody’s got to suffer in this world.”
Michael left him, and without entering his old rooms again went away from Leppard Street.
The moment had come to visit Rome, and remembering how he had once dissuaded Maurice from going there, he felt some compunction now in telling him that he wanted to travel alone. However, it would be impossible to visit Rome for the first time with Maurice. In the studio he led up to his backing out of the engagement.