“Dear Mr Vetch,” said Hyacinth, “you have me too much in mind. I’m not worth it, please believe that; for all sorts of reasons. I should make money enough for any uses I have for it, or have any right to have, if I stayed quietly in London and attended to my work. As you know, I can earn a decent living.”
“Yes, I can see that. But if you stayed quietly in London what would become of your princess?”
“Oh, they can always manage, ladies in that position.”
“Hanged if I understand her position!” cried Mr Vetch, but without laughing. “You have been for three weeks without work, and yet you look uncommonly smart.”
“You see, my living has cost me nothing. When you stay with great people you don’t pay your score,” Hyacinth explained, with great gentleness. “Moreover, the lady whose hospitality I have been enjoying has made me a very handsome offer of work.”
“What kind of work?”
“The only kind I know. She is going to send me a lot of books, to do up for her.”
“And to pay you fancy prices?”
“Oh, no; I am to fix the prices myself.”
“Are not transactions of that kind rather disagreeable, with a lady whose hospitality one has been enjoying?” Mr Vetch inquired.