'Oh, you're going to take it, then?'
'Probably. I've not written to accept yet, so don't pass it on.'
'I'm glad. It's much more amusing to accept things, even livings. It'll be lovely: you'll be all among the clubs and theatres and the idle rich; much gayer than Covent Garden.'
'Oh, gayer,' said Juke.
They came out into Birdcage Walk, and there was a man selling the Evening Hustle, Lord Pinkerton's evening paper.
'Bloody massacres,' he was observing with a kind of absent-minded happiness. 'Bloody massacres in Russia, Ireland, Armenia, and the Punjab…. British journalist assassinated near Odessa.'
And there it was, too, in big black letters on the Evening Hustle placard:—
'DIVORCE OF A PEERESS.
'MURDER OF BRITISH JOURNALIST IN RUSSIA-LATE WIRE FROM GATWICK.'
They bought the paper, to see who the British journalist was. His murder was in a little paragraph on the front page.