"My neighbourhood was Battersea, that is to say, it was suburban wilds. We had a villa at Streatham—have it now, in fact," he added, remembering with dismay that there was a quarter's rent due. "No, I'm afraid I can't condole with you, Mrs. Deane-Pitt."
"'Pride sleeps in a gilded crown, contentment in a cotton night-cap,'" she said. "An address is only skin-deep, after all; besides, Streatham is pretty."
"Pretty well. And it looks prettier out of a big house."
"Get money, my friend," she said languidly; "you are young enough, and I think you're clever enough. When all things were made, nothing was made better. And it's really very easy; as soon as you are popular, the editors will take anything."
"'First catch your hare,'" he observed. "I'm not popular."
The clock on the mantelshelf struck one, and he threw away his cigarette-end and got up.
"Good-night, Mrs. Deane-Pitt."
"Good-night," she said.
Her touch lingered again, and her personality dominated him as he walked back to the pension de famille through the silent streets. He was angry with himself to perceive that it was so. What the devil had he been about in that business with the gloves over the table? She had let him do it, too! Did she like him. He wouldn't go to see her any more! Well, that was absurd, but he would not go so frequently as he had. And he must keep a rein on himself. Nothing could come of it, he was convinced, even if he wished; and he did not wish. It would be too beastly to deceive a girl like Cynthia ... and their baby only a year old! He decided, as he mounted the stairs, to tell Cynthia when she came back that he had been to the Variétés with Mrs. Deane-Pitt. It would not disturb her to hear that, and, though it was juggling with his conscience, he would feel cleaner afterwards. There was a letter from her waiting for him on the bedroom table, and he washed his hands before he opened it.
Cynthia wrote to say that she should be home the next evening but one, and that her parents had been rejoiced to see her. On the whole, things did not seem to be so desperate as she had feared; but it was quite determined that The Hawthorns should be let, for, fortunately, there was a Peruvian family who were prepared to take it just as it stood, and mamma had already been to view a house at Strawberry Hill which was quite nice, and far cheaper. Whether Miss Wix would remove with them was doubtful.