“Dashed brainy chap. Always said so.”
“I must say I was rather uneasy when I read that. I've seen so many of Fillmore's Big Ideas. That's always the way with him. He gets something good and then goes and overdoes it and bursts. However, it's all right now that he's got Gladys to look after him. She has added a postscript. Just four words, but oh! how comforting to a sister's heart. 'Yes, I don't think!' is what she says, and I don't know when I've read anything more cheering. Thank heaven, she's got poor dear Fillmore well in hand.”
“Pork-pies!” said Ginger, musingly, as the pangs of a healthy hunger began to assail his interior. “I wish he'd sent us one of the outstanding little chaps. I could do with it.”
Sally got up and ruffled his red hair.
“Poor old Ginger! I knew you'd never be able to stick it. Come on, it's a lovely night, let's walk to the village and revel at the inn. We're going to be millionaires before we know where we are, so we can afford it.”
THE END