"Now, what is your news?" asked Bramwell, feeling sick at the thought that it must be something about Ainsworth.
Ray fidgeted on his chair. He found it more easy to say to himself, "I must tell Frank at once," than to accomplish the design now that the two were face to face. He hummed and hawed, and loosed his collar by thrusting his finger between his neck and the band of his shirt, but no words came. At last he got up and began walking about nervously.
"What is it, Philip? Can I do anything for you?" asked Bramwell, in a placid voice and with a quiet smile.
"No, thank you, Frank, I've done it all myself. I've done all that man could do."
Bramwell turned pale; seizing the arms of his chair, he said apprehensively, "You don't mean to say have met Ainsworth, and----"
"No--no--no!"
Bramwell threw himself back, infinitely relieved.
"The fact is I have made a fool of myself."
"In what way, Philip?"
"You know my income?"