cuse my saying so, you're connected with some of the worst frights I ever had, and I do hope I shan't set eyes on you again for the next five years."
"That's too much to hope," I said modestly.
I was half-way down the first flight of stairs when he came running to the top and cried, "About the check, Mr. Armitage—is it all right?"
"Quite," I said.
"That's all right. I trust you, Mr. Armitage, I trust you."
"Thank you," I said gravely.
But as I went on down the stairs I asked myself, had I realized one of my ambitions? Had I, or had I not, heard a financier sing?
When I came back to the Temple I told Angel of my success, and that she might now consider herself safely on the way of becoming a woman of wealth. I never lost an opportunity of speaking of her as a woman, because I saw that she liked it. But she did not seem as pleased as she might have done by the prospect of becoming a wealthy woman; she looked at me with doubtful, questioning eyes.
"What's the matter?" I said gently, for since she had developed her fits of brooding I had grown more gentle and less cheerful with her. "You don't seem pleased."
"I've got plenty of money, at least not plenty, but enough. I expect it will alter things."
