'Pay them at once, then,' he said. 'Now, you looked worried at lunch. Anything wrong?'
'It was,' said Bertie. 'It isn't now.'
Mr. Palmer looked at him a moment with strong approval.
'I like you,' he said. 'Now go away. The mill has to commence again.'
The relief was as profound as the oppression had been, and now that the strain was over Bertie was conscious of a luxurious relaxation; the tension and strain on his nerves had passed, and a feeling of happy weariness, as when a dreaded operation is well over, set in. He could scarcely yet find it in his mind to be bitter or angry even with Mrs. Emsworth; she had done a vile thing, but he would not any longer be in her power, and being free from it, he scarcely resented it, so strong was his relief. Mr. Palmer, he knew, had designed to make some settlement of money on him; what it was to be he did not yet know, but the fact that this had been deducted from it prevented his feeling that he had come by the money in any crooked fashion. As it was, a certain payment to be made to him had been partly anticipated, and he looked forward to paying his blackmail almost with eagerness.
He made an appointment by telegraph with Bilton for the next morning, and at the hour waited on him at his office in Pall Mall. He had always rather liked the man; his practical shrewdness, the entire absence of what might be called 'nonsense' about him, a certain hard, definite clearness about him and his ways, was somehow satisfactory to the mind. And this morning these characteristics were peculiarly developed.
He gave Bertie a blunt and genuine welcome.
'Delighted to see you,' he said. 'Just come over, haven't you? Smoke?'
Bertie took a cigarette.
'I've called about some business connected with Mrs. Emsworth,' he said. 'I am here to settle it.'