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I had to sell out, you see, when my father died, for the estate is in my hands. I am the richest man in England. His salary was a few paltry hundreds a year. It was comforting to have her there, snoring gently. “I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said. He recoiled from the sting. “You know,” he muttered, “you know quite well that your troubles are far more likely to weigh upon me than my own. According to what I’ve heard, you oughtn’t to be here. There, that sounds frightfully involved, doesn’t it, but perhaps you can make out what I mean. "A bad business this, Van," observed Baptist, with a prolonged shake of the head.
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