“I don’t quite understand how you make that out.”
“I will explain it all to you.”
“We will talk it over again.”
In the three hours for which we talked together this woman did not once ask me how I was, whether I was comfortable, how long I intended to stay in London, or whether I had made much money. In short she made no enquiries what ever about me, only saying with a smile, but not heedlessly,—
“I never have a penny to spare.”
Her receipts amounted to more than twenty-four thousand pounds per annum, but her expenses were enormous and she had debts.
I avenged myself on her indifference by not saying a word about myself. I was dresssed simply but neatly, and had not any jewellery or diamonds about my person.
I went to bed annoyed with her, but glad to have discovered the badness of her heart. In spite of my longing to see my daughter I determined not to take any steps to meet her till the ensuing Sunday, when I was invited to dinner.
Early next morning I told Clairmont to pull all my goods and chattels in a carriage, and when all was ready I went to take leave of young Cornelis, telling him I was going to live in Pall Mall, and leaving him my address.
“You are not going to stay with me, then?” said he.