“Sure it may have been,” returned Antony nonchalantly, and sticking his spade into the ground.
“It must have been,” said Mr. Curtis thoughtfully. “All lodging houses are rented at ten shillings a week, even unfurnished small ones, not five shillings. Besides Grantley is only getting a pound a week wage. He can’t afford to live in apartments, unless he’s come in for a fortune. If he has I must look out for another man. Men with fortunes get a trifle above themselves, you know. Besides he’d naturally not wish to stay on. But of course the whole thing’s merely a rumour. I’d contradict it if I were you. Good evening.”
He walked up the lane smiling.
“You bounder,” said Antony softly, looking after him. “Just you wait till next March, my friend.”
He left his spade stuck into the earth, and went back into the cottage. Half an hour later, he was walking quickly in the direction of Byestry.
Doctor Hilary was in his surgery, when he was told that Michael Field had asked if he could see him. He went at once to the little waiting-room. Antony rose at his entrance.
“Good evening, sor,” he said, touching his forehead. “Can you be sparing me five minutes’ talk?”
“By all means,” said Doctor Hilary. “Sit down.”
Antony sat down. In a few brief words he put the Grantley affair before him.