"I'll make a tremendous charge; I'll earn a lot of money in a short time,
and we'll live on it."

"Well, I hope the opulent youth will be a dismal dunce--he probably
will--" Morgan parenthesised--"and keep you a long time a-hammering of it
in."

"Of course the longer he keeps me the more we shall have for our old
age."

"But suppose _they_ don't pay you!" Morgan awfully suggested.

"Oh there are not two such--!" But Pemberton pulled up; he had been on
the point of using too invidious a term. Instead of this he said "Two
such fatalities."

Morgan flushed--the tears came to his eyes. "Dites toujours two such
rascally crews!" Then in a different tone he added: "Happy opulent
youth!"

"Not if he's a dismal dunce."

"Oh they're happier then. But you can't have everything, can you?" the
boy smiled.

Pemberton held him fast, hands on his shoulders--he had never loved him
so. "What will become of you, what will you do?" He thought of Mrs.
Moreen, desperate for sixty francs.

"I shall become an homme fait." And then as if he recognised all the