Then he went to bed with Dick, who counted
every hour as it struck, and rose in the morning with a painfully clear head to
receive Torpenhow's more formal congratulations and a particular account of the
last night's revels.
"You aren't looking very happy for a newly accepted man," said Torpenhow.
"Never mind that--it's my own affair, and I'm all right. Do you really go?"
"Yes. With the old Central Southern as usual. They wired, and I accepted on
better terms than before."
"When do you start?"
"The day after tomorrow--for Brindisi."
"Thank God." Dick spoke from the bottom of his heart.
"Well, that's not a pretty way of saying you're glad to get rid of me. But men
in your condition are allowed to be selfish."
"I didn't mean that. Will you get a hundred pounds cashed for me before you
leave?"
"That's a slender amount for housekeeping, isn't it?"
"Oh, it's only for--marriage expenses."
Torpenhow brought him the money, counted it out in fives and tens, and
carefully put it away in the writing table.
"Now I suppose I shall have to listen to his ravings about his girl until I go.
Heaven send us patience with a man in love!" he said to himself.
But never a word did Dick say of Maisie or marriage.
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