'He may have been a prince, for all the good it has done me.'
'Fancy your talking as if you didn't know!' said Millicent.
'Finish your tea—don't mind how I talk.'
'Well, you 'ave got a temper!' the girl exclaimed, archly. 'I should have thought you'd be a clerk at a banker's.'
'Do they select them for their tempers?'
'You know what I mean. You used to be too clever to follow a trade.'
'Well, I'm not clever enough to live on air.'
'You might be, really, for all the tea you drink! Why didn't you go in for some high profession?'
'How was I to go in? Who the devil was to help me?' Hyacinth inquired, with a certain vibration.
'Haven't you got any relations?' said Millicent, after a moment.
'What are you doing? Are you trying to make me swagger?'
When he spoke sharply she only laughed, not in the least ruffled, and by the way she looked at him seemed to like it. 'Well, I'm sorry you're only a journeyman,' she went on, pushing away her cup.
'So am I,' Hyacinth rejoined; but he called for the bill as if he had been an employer of labour. Then, while it was being brought, he remarked to his companion that he didn't believe she had an idea of what his work was and how charming it could be. 'Yes, I get up books for the shops,' he said, when she had retorted that she perfectly understood. 'But the art of the binder is an exquisite art.'
