‘I’ll make that place one of the biggest advertising stations in England—see if I don’t! You remember the caves? I’m going to have them lighted with electricity, and painted all round with advertisements of the most artistic kind.’
‘What a brilliant idea!’
‘There’s something else you might like to hear of. It struck me I would write a Guide to Advertising, and here it is.’ He handed a copy of the book. ‘It advertises me, and brings a little grist to the mill on its own account. Three weeks since I got it out, and we’ve sold three thousand of it. Costs nothing to print; the advertisements more than pay for that. Price, one shilling.’
‘But how you do work, Mr. Crewe! It’s marvellous. And yet you look so well,—you have really a seaside colour!’
‘I never ailed much since I can remember. The harder I work, the better I feel.’
‘I, too, have always been rather proud of my constitution.’ Her eyes dropped. ‘But then I have led a life of idleness. Couldn’t you make me useful in some way? Set me to work! I am convinced I should be so much happier. Let me help you, Mr. Crewe. I write a pretty fair hand, don’t I?’
Crewe smiled at her, made a sound as if clearing his throat, grasped his knee, and was on the very point of momentous utterance, when the door opened. Turning his head impatiently, he saw, not the clerk whose duty it was to announce people, but a lady, much younger than Mrs. Damerel, and more fashionably dressed, who for some reason had preferred to announce herself.
‘Why do you come in like that?’ Crewe demanded, staring at her. ‘I’m engaged.’
‘Are you indeed?’
‘You ought to send in your name.