“Well; what is it?” responded she, also removing a weed from between her pretty lips, and pouting the smoke after it.
“How do you like our new lodgings, love? Better than those at Westbourne?”
“You don’t want me to answer that question, Dick?”
“Oh, no. Not if you don’t wish. But you needn’t snap and snarl so.”
“I am not snapping or snarling. It’s silly of you to say so.”
“Yes, everything’s silly I say, or do either. I’ve been very silly within the last three days. To get into a cosy crib like this, with the rent paid twelve months in advance, and a hundred pounds to keep the kitchen! More to come if I mistake not. Quite stupid of me to have accomplished all this?”
Fan made no rejoinder. Had her husband closely scanned her countenance at that moment, he might have seen upon it a smile not caused by any admiration of his cleverness.
She had her own thoughts as to what and to whom he was indebted for the favourable turn in his fortunes.
“Yes; much more to come,” said he, continuing the hopeful prognostic. “In fact, Fan, our fortune’s made, or will be, if you only do—”
“Do what?” she asked, seeing that he hesitated. “What do you want me to do next?”