"Well, Frank!"
"The man wants to be paid, and go back. He's had some beer."
"I'll go back with him," cried Pen. "Good-by, Blanche. God bless you, Foker, old friend. You know, neither of you want me here." He longed to be off that instant.
"Stay—I must say one word to you. One word in private, if you
please," Blanche said. "You can trust us together, can't you—Henry?"
The tone in which the word Henry was spoken, and the appeal, ravished
Foker with delight. "Trust you!" said he; "Oh, who wouldn't trust you!
Come along, Franky, my boy."
"Let's have a cigar," said Frank, as they went into the hall.
"She don't like it," said Foker, gently.
"Law bless you—_she don't mind. Pendennis used to smoke regular," said the candid youth.
"It was but a short word I had to say," said Blanche to Pen, with great calm, when they were alone. "You never loved me, Mr. Pendennis."
"I told you how much," said Arthur. "I never deceived you."
"I suppose you will go back and marry Laura," continued Blanche.