"A recruit!" the duke said. "I'm responsible for him for the future. And meanwhile he's confoundedly hungry."
"So I bloomin' well am," said the imp—though "blooming" was not the precise word he used.
Rose took the urchin by the ear.
"Come along, embryo Socialist," he said; "there's lots to eat inside—I'll take him to the kitchen, duke, and meet you in a moment in my study. My wife's in the kitchen helping the cook. She'll see to this youngster."
The duke paid the cabmen. As he gave half-a-crown to the second man, the fellow leaned down from his box and said, "God bless you, my lord. I knew you as soon as you got into my cab. It'll be many years before you know the good you done last night. People like us know wot you done and are goin' to do. I arst you to remember that."
He gave a salute with his whip and clattered away.
The duke went into the house.
As the door closed behind him and he stood alone in the narrow hall, the final revelation, the complete realisation came to him.
Mechanically he took off his wet overcoat and bowler hat, hanging them upon the rack. He put his dripping umbrella in the stand and went upstairs to the first floor.
Rose's study was on the first floor, facing the drawing-room.