"Understands what?"
"Oh, don't pretend! We know our Thorpe by this time. He's a cutlet- for-a-cutlet fellow. What do I say? A cutlet-for-a-baron-of-beef gentleman. Hang him!"
"But Angela----"
"Angela is a reckless little idiot. She's been starving for a lark, and she's swallowed it without counting the cost."
"But I trust her," said I; "and Jim is here."
Ajax shrugged his shoulders and walked away.
Next day, at the races, Jim attached himself to us, while aloft in the grand-stand Angela sat with Thorpe: the handsomest couple at the Fair. For the moment, at any rate, Angela was enjoying herself; Jim, on the other hand, looked miserable. Contrast had discoloured the good time. He couldn't snatch pleasure out of the present because he saw so plainly the future.
"I'm a wet blanket," he said dolefully. "Every time Angela laughs I want to cry, and yet I ought to be thankful that old Thorpe can give her what I can't."
"He's doing the thing well," said Ajax meaningly.
"He has been left a bit more money. Didn't he tell you? No? And he's going to buy that big tract to the north-west of us. Mum's the word, but--between ourselves--the agreement is signed."