"She lives just the other side of Baker Street, and really she's a kind of agent, you know." Lalage made a gesture of supreme disgust. "But she's not so bad as most of them, and, as her husband is a clerk in the Council office, anyone would tell your people that the house is quite respectable. Why, it belongs to the mayor himself."
Jimmy frowned. He loathed the idea of putting himself in the hands of people of that sort, people who would understand exactly how matters stood, and judge, not only himself, but Lalage as well, according to their own standards.
"I would sooner we had nothing whatever to do with any of them," he said.
He was touching mud for the first time in his life, real mud, and he did not like the feeling of it. Moreover, he had suddenly grown very particular about Lalage. They might not be married, in fact he had decided that there could be no question of marriage between them; but, none the less, as long as he was going under another name, he wanted people to believe they had legalised their union, and to respect Lalage accordingly. Had he not belonged to a family of position, he might have seen himself as a coward or a cad; but the Griersons were essentially of the Victorian age, and so he was able to quiet his conscience with platitudes; whilst under the seeming calmness with which Lalage had accepted his proposal, she was too glad of any change from the nightmare of the past to be very critical. She hoped—that was all, resolutely refusing to allow herself any fears or misgivings. And, after all, Jimmy was very young so far as these things were concerned, and Lalage was even younger; so, probably, they would not have listened to, much less have believed, anyone who had warned them that they were attempting the impossible. They were happy at the moment, having put the past behind them, and they were ready to assume that their happiness would last, ignoring its dangerous insecure foundations.
In the end, Lalage had her way, so far as the room was concerned. Mrs. Fagin, the landlady, scenting money easily earned, was absolutely servile. Jimmy stammered a little over his explanations, but Lalage put things more plainly. "He will seldom be here; in fact I do not think he will ever actually need the room," she said. "But it will be an address for his letters, and you will know what to say if there are any inquiries. What would be your terms?"
Mrs. Fagin looked at Jimmy, as if to get his measure. "I'm sure I don't know, sir," she began. "We haven't had that same thing before, but——."
"He will pay three shillings a week," Lalage interrupted, "and begin next week. That should suit you, Mrs. Fagin. Very well," and she sailed out.
Jimmy looked at her admiringly. "You do know how to deal with them, Lalage," he remarked.
She sighed a little wearily. "I've had to learn that, and a good many other things, since I came to town."
Down at the apartment house in the dreary suburban street, Mrs. Benn accepted a week's notice from Jimmy with a sniff of anger.