The "little job" of which he had spoken was this:
He wanted me—quite at my own convenience, of course, and whenever I next happened to be in town—to arrange for the sale of his things at Cambridge Circus. To attend to this himself might be to ask for trouble. So I was to sell everything for what it would fetch and remit the money to him.
"Where?" I asked him. ("Ireland?" I thought.)
"I shall have to let you know that later," he replied. "I want to sell the lot and pay all up there; chairs and curtains are no good to a man like me. I don't suppose I shall ever want 'em again. I shall have to settle up with Trenchard too, and money's as well in your pocket as anywhere else."
"Will you have some now to be going on with?"
"No, that's quite all right. I have all I want for the present, if you wouldn't mind doing this other for me. Thanks, old fellow."
"Is it to Cambridge Circus that you're going to-night when you leave Julia?" I asked.
"Yes. There are one or two small things I want, and also a few things I think I'd better destroy."
"Couldn't you," I said slowly and quite deliberately, "have taken her home and seen about your things to-morrow?"
I felt the beginning of his perturbation. "It's so dashed awkward, George," he stammered. "I don't want to go in the daytime."