He was somewhat vague. An atlas formed no part of their personal equipment or of the hireling penates of “Quien Sabe.”
“I’ll write to Cook’s.”
“Cook’s? My beloved, where is your sense of adventure?”
“We must go by trains and steamers, and Cook’s will tell us all about them.”
She had her way. Cook’s replied. At the quotation for the minimum aggregate of fares Alexis gasped.
“There’s not so much money in the world.”
“There is,” she flashed triumphantly. “On deposit at my bank. Much more.”
Who was right now, she asked herself, she or the prosaic Mr. Trivett and Mr. Fenmarch? She only had to dip her hands into her fortune and withdraw them filled with bank-notes enough to take them half a dozen times round the world!
Inspired by this new simplicity of things, they rushed up to London by an incredibly early train to take tickets, then and there for the main routes which circumnavigate the globe. The man at Cook’s dashed their ardour. They would have to pencil their passages now and wait for months until their turn on the waiting lists arrived.
It must be remembered that then were the early days of Peace.