"I'm engaged to-morrow night, and the next."
"To-night, then?"
"This evening I am dining out; there's the card on my desk."
"What a fashionable person you are!" exclaimed Kent, rather enviously. "Would Friday evening suit you?"
"Yes, I'm free on Friday; but a theatre is awfully stifling this weather, isn't it?"
"Well, we needn't go to a theatre," he said; "we might dine at Richmond. Will you drive down to Richmond, and have dinner at the Star and Garter on Friday?"
Mrs. Deane-Pitt promised that she would, but the animation with which she had given him the cheque had deserted her; and after a minute, she said:
"I suppose your starting another novel for yourself needn't stand in the way of our business together? There are several things I can offer you, if you care to do them."
"Oh, thanks," said Kent; "but I'm afraid I'd better stick to the novel. I want to do all I can with it, you see."
"L'un n'empêche pas l'autre—a short story now and then won't interfere with it, surely? I can place a ten-thousand-word story at once if you like to write it for me."