“You can stay now,” Wingrave answered. “Your salary will be four hundred a year. You will live at my expense. The day you disobey an order of mine, you go! No notice, mind!”
“Agreed,” Aynesworth answered. “What should I do first? Send you a tailor, I should think.”
Wingrave nodded.
“I will give the afternoon to that sort of people,” he said. “Here is a list of the tradesmen I used to deal with. Kindly avoid them.”
Aynesworth glanced at the slip of paper, and nodded.
“All out-of-date now,” he remarked. “I’ll be back to lunch.”
A DELICATE MISSION
Aynesworth was back in less than an hour. He carried under his arm a brown paper parcel, the strings of which he commenced at once to untie. Wingrave, who had been engrossed in the contents of his deed box, watched him with immovable face.
“The tailor will be here at two-thirty,” he announced, “and the other fellows will follow on at half an hour’s interval. The manicurist and the barber are coming at six o’clock.”