'I believe you're right. Where shall I go?'
'And you call yourself a special correspondent! Pack first and inquire afterwards.'
An hour later Torpenhow was despatched into the night in a hansom. 'You'll probably think of some place to go to while you're moving,' said Dick. 'On to Euston, to begin with, and—oh yes—get drunk to-night.'
He returned to the studio, and lighted more candles, for he found the room very dark.
'Oh, you Jezebel! you futile little Jezebel! Won't you hate me to-morrow!—Binkie, come here.'
Binkie turned over on his back on the hearth-rug, and Dick stirred him with a meditative foot.
'I said she was not immoral. I was wrong. She said she could cook. That showed premeditated sin. Oh, Binkie, if you are a man you will go to perdition; but if you are a woman, and say that you can cook, you will go to a much worse place.'
