“The first time you meet Brayder, cane him publicly.
“Adieu! Say it’s because you don’t like his face. I suppose devils must not say Adieu. Here’s plain old good-bye, then, between you and me. Good-bye, dear Dick! You won’t think that of me?
“May I eat dry bread to the day of my death if I took or ever will touch a scrap of their money.
BELLA.”
Richard folded up the letter silently.
“Jump into the cab,” he said to Ripton.
“Anything the matter, Richard?”
“No.”
The driver received directions. Richard sat without speaking. His friend knew that face. He asked whether there was bad news in the letter. For answer, he had the lie circumstancial. He ventured to remark that they were going the wrong way.
“It’s the right way,” cried Richard, and his jaws were hard and square, and his eyes looked heavy and full.