"For what?" said I.
"Cash," said he. "Poole does it on clothes, and I've adopted the system. It pays in the end, for, as I say in my next ode to the Queen, to be written on the occasion of her Ruby Jubilee, 'A sovereign in hand is worth two heirs-presumptive in the bush.'"
"In other words, cash deferred maketh the heart sick."
"Precisely. I'll put that motto down in my note-book for future use."
"I thank you for the compliment," said I, as I paid him $5950. "Good-bye, Mr. Austin."
"Good-bye, Miss Witherup," said he. "Any time when you find you have a half hour and £1000 to spare come again.
"Say au revoir, but not good-bye,
For why?
There is no cause to whisper vale,
When we can parley
Without a fear
That words are cheap, my dear,"
said he, ushering me down-stairs and bowing me out into the fog, which by this time had lightened so that I could see the end of my nose as I walked along.