She was gazing at him with lively curiosity. “How nice you look.”
“New suit. Like it?”
“Yes. And you act as if somebody had left you a million dollars.”
“Wish he had. I bought this outfit with a first edition ‘Alice in Wonderland,’” he laughed and explained. “I’ve been getting rid of some of our rare books. I feel plutocratic in consequence. Five hundred dollars, if you please, for that old Hogarth, with the scathing Ruskin inscription. And I’m going to open an office, Jane.”
“In Washington?”
“On Connecticut Avenue. Same building, same room, where I started.”
“Evans, how splendid!”
“Yes. You did it, Jane.”
“I? How?”
“The night of the fog. I never realized before what a walking-stick I’ve been—leaning on you. Henceforth you’re the Lady of the Lantern. It won’t be so fatiguing.”