"You leave the matter in my hands, and you'll find that I will make it all right."
"I'll be shot if I will! The girl has promised to be my wife, and if there's any man who's got a right to talk to her it's me. I've had one day out of town; I think I'll spare myself another. You've got a time-table, haven't you? When is there a train?"
Producing a Bradshaw, Mr. Ash plunged into its intricacies.
"It's now eleven. There's a train leaves Waterloo eleven thirty-five. Reaches Shanklin three forty-three. It's too late for that."
"Eleven thirty-five? Is it too late--we'll see. You don't seem to be aware of the fact that at this moment, for all I know, that man's amusing himself with the woman who promised to be my wife. It don't occur to you that there is any necessity for haste. I'm off; you may come or stay, just as you please."
"I'll come--it's a little awkward, but I'll come."
"It is awkward! You'd think it awkward if you were in the pair of shoes that I'm wearing now."
"Half a minute! Just let me speak one word to my managing man."
Mr. Ash called in his clerk. Mr. Ely passed into the street, and engaged a hansom cab. In a remarkably short space of time he was joined by Mr. Ash. Mr. Ely gave instructions to the cabman.
"Waterloo! Main line! And go like blazes!"