TERMINATIONS
knuckles to lips, looking with speculative eyes at each other.
"Very likely we'll be 'appier than we should 'ave been with more money," said Kipps presently.
"We wasn't 'ardly suited," reflected Ann, and left her sentence incomplete.
"Fish out of water like," said Kipps. . . .
"You won't 'ave to return that call now," said Kipps, opening a new branch of the question. "That's one good thing."
"Lor'!" said Ann, "no more I shan't!"
"I don't s'pose they'd want you to, even if you did—with things as they are."
A certain added brightness came into Ann's face. "Nobody won't be able to come leaving cards on us, Artie now, any more. We are out of that!"
"There isn't no necessity for us to be stuck up," said Kipps, "any more for ever! 'Ere we are, Ann, common people, with jest no position at all, as you might say, to keep up. No sev'nts, not if you don't like. No dressin' better than other people. If it wasn't we been robbed—dashed if I'd care a rap about losing that money. I b'lieve"—his face shone with the rare pleasure of paradox—"I reely b'lieve, Ann, it'll prove a savin' in the end."
§ 4
The remarkable advertisement which had fired Kipps' imagination with this dream of a bookshop opened out in the most alluring way. It was one little facet in a comprehensive scheme of transatlantic
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