“That’s just what I wanted to do,” said she; “you are so good to me.”
She was to leave the hospital in January. The time was rapidly approaching. Much of their time together was spent in the discussion of plans for the immediate future. Yvonne wanted to sell her furniture, which Joyce had inspected and found in safe hands. He opposed the idea. What was the use, when she would want it again, as soon as she was comfortably situated? In three months she would be in receipt of funds. Everard might cable her back a remittance long before. In the meantime, he could advance her a lump sum out of his capital.
“Then you can take unfurnished rooms and put in your own things at once. It will be much cheaper.”
“But suppose I don’t pay you back,” said Yvonne. “How can you make me?”
“I can suggest nothing but a bill of sale on the furniture,” he replied laughingly.
“What is that?”
“Well, you sign a paper saying that if the debt is not paid in three months, at the end of that time I can put in the brokers and sell your furniture and take all the money.”
“Oh, that would be lovely!” cried Yvonne. “Do let me do it. I should feel so businesslike. Draw it up now and I ’ll sign it.”
“It will have to be registered,” said Joyce.
“Well, register it then. What’s to prevent you?”