"I am right, on that point you may rest assured."
"You know, Rodney, you're all I have in the world--now."
The use of the adverb, in that connection, tickled him. The idea that, so far as she was concerned, her father ever had been much of a personal asset was distinctly funny. However, he allowed no hint of how her words struck him to peep out; never a more ardent lover, a more present help in the time of a girl's trouble. He escorted her to what bade henceforward to be her lonely home in the cab which still waited at the door. When he returned to Paddington it was very late. As he moved to his bedroom up the darkened staircase a door opened on the landing. The fluffy-haired girl looked out. She was in a state of considerable déshabillé.
"You are late," she whispered. "I thought you never were coming back."
"You goose."
He put his arms about her and kissed her with the calmest proprietary air.
"To think that you should be still awake."
"You knew I should sit up; you knew mother wasn't coming back to-night, and you said you'd be in early."
She spoke with an air of grievance. He smiled.
"It's been a case of man proposes. I have had many things to contend with--all sorts of worries. Now, as I want breakfast early, I'm going to bed, and, I hope, to sleep, if you aren't."