"Yes, I know!" she said hurriedly. "You could have put your name in place of mine, and she would have signed just as willingly. But it's a horrible business."
"All business is horrible. That is why we hire people to do it for us. I was thinking of myself as well," said George heartily. "We are getting along very nicely, Nellie—no just cause or impediment, you know! This should mean one of those nice little sums of good money known as capital," he whispered, rubbing his hands.
"I must go to Miss Sophy," said Nellie; and she moved towards the stairs like one in trouble.
The next day George carried his vases tenderly to the station where, at the appointed time, Crampy arrived, and at once inquired:
"Has Jenkins been down?"
"He came," replied George, prepared for some such question, "but we couldn't do business."
"All cackle, I suppose? That's his way. He'll come into my place to bargain for a piece of Sèvres; swear he must have it, talk me dizzy; then say he must cross the Atlantic and think about it."
"He seemed very anxious to buy the vases, but he couldn't quite make up his mind. I didn't exactly trust the fellow," said George. Then he went on to describe the millionaire's adventures with aeroplane and motor car between London and Highfield.
"That was just his ornamental way of telling you he's a hustler. He travelled by railway, and third class all the way. Jenkins is an awful liar; but he's honest. I want to catch the up train, due in about twenty minutes, so we had better get to business. If you are ready to hand over the pieces, I am prepared to give you my cheque for a thousand marked accepted by the bank."
"Jenkins said they were really worth more than that."