His anger gave way to grim humour and he thrust towards them, leaning heavily on his cane. “You must come home to him at once,” said Miss Stanley. Can you imagine how dreadful it must be for them? Most of them arrive here almost penniless. That wasn’t even the worst thing. Loving was better than that. Kneebone, who had drained his glass to the restoration of the house of Stuart, and the downfall of the house of Hanover, more frequently than was consistent with prudence, consented; and the trio set out for Wych Street, where they arrived in the jolliest humour possible. “It does not appear to me,” he said, stiffly, “to be an affair for jests. “I know nothing whatever of his friends or his home. I had a sort of idea,” he went on, “that you were starting life all over again, and it seemed awfully plucky. Ennison,” he said, “it is for you to cut in at Lady Angela’s table. “At a boarding-house?” he gasped. Predictably, Charvill turned on him. I am too weak to aid you. ’ ‘I will not.
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