“Yes certainly, very much—not knowing anything about Pinnie. I’ve been in a beautiful house with a beautiful woman.”
Mr. Vetch had turned round; he looked very impartial through the smoke of his pipe. “Is she really a princess?”
“I don’t know what you mean by ‘really’: I suppose all titles are great rot. But every one seems agreed to call her so.”
“You know I’ve always liked to enter into your life, and to-day the wish is stronger than ever,” the old man presently said, while he fixed his eyes steadily on his companion’s.
Hyacinth returned his gaze a moment. “What makes you say that just now?”
The fiddler appeared to deliberate and at last replied: “Because you’re in danger of losing the best friend you’ve ever had.”
“Be sure I feel it. But if I’ve got you——!” his companion added.
“Oh me! I’m very old and very tired of life.”
“I suppose that that’s what one arrives at. Well, if I can help you in any way you must lean on me, you must make use of me.”
“That’s precisely what I was going to say to you,” said Mr. Vetch. “Should you like any money?”