“We are now,” quoth Dick, as they returned to the studio, patting the place where his money-belt covered ticket and money, “beyond the reach of man, or devil, or woman—which is much more important. I've had three little affairs to carry through before Thursday, but I needn't ask you to help, Bess. Come here on Thursday morning at nine. We'll breakfast, and you shall take me down to Galleons Station.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Going away, of course. What should I stay for?”
“But you can't look after yourself?”
“I can do anything. I didn't realise it before, but I can. I've done a great deal already. Resolution shall be treated to one kiss if Bessie doesn't object.” Strangely enough, Bessie objected and Dick laughed. “I suppose you're right. Well, come at nine the day after tomorrow and you'll get your money.”
“Shall I sure?”
“I don't bilk, and you won't know whether I do or not unless you come. Oh, but it's long and long to wait! Good-bye, Bessie,—send Beeton here as you go out.”
The housekeeper came.
“What are all the fittings of my rooms worth?” said Dick, imperiously.
“'Tisn't for me to say, sir. Some things is very pretty and some is wore out dreadful.”