‘He’s always been that, I assure ‘ee,’ said the old man tartly.
‘Yes—yes—I mean intellectually steady. Intellectual wild oats will thrive in a soil of the strictest morality.’
‘Intellectual gingerbread! Ted’s steady enough—that’s all I know about it.’
‘Of course—of course. Has he respectable lodgings? My own experience has shown me that that’s a great thing to a young man living alone in London.’
‘Warwick Street, Charing Cross—that’s where he is.’
‘Well, to be sure—strange! A very dear friend of mine used to live at number fifty-two in that very same street.’
‘Edward lives at number forty-nine—how very near being the same house!’ said the old farmer, pleased in spite of himself.
‘Very,’ said Manston. ‘Well, I suppose we had better step along a little quicker, Mr. Springrove; the parson’s bell has just begun.’
‘Number forty-nine,’ he murmured.
4. MARCH THE TWELFTH