“This is liver,” he muttered. “I shall now relax, take twelve deep breaths, and sleep.”
Which he did.
CHAPTER XVI
Spring came, and Jacob found the monotony of life relieved by a leisurely motor trip through the south of England, during which he stopped to play golf occasionally at various well-known courses. He returned to London in June, and on the second day of Ascot he came across Felixstowe, for the first time since their meeting in Monte Carlo. The young man’s greeting was breezy and devoid of any embarrassment. The little matter of the pony did not appear to trouble him.
“Jacob, old heart!” he exclaimed, leaning on his malacca cane and pushing his silk hat a little farther back on his head. “God bless you, my bloated capitalist! Three times have I rung up your office in vain. Where have you been to, these days?”
“Getting about as usual,” was the modest reply. “In the country, as a matter of fact, for the last few weeks.”
The young man considered his friend’s attire and nodded approvingly.