it into my head; but if a cousin were to appear now, or before the time
is up, I should be in Queer Street. Estcombe is dipped: and of the money
I raised, there is no more at the agent's than I have lost in a night at
Quinze! D----n White's and that is all about it. And d----n it, I shall,
and finely, if old Anthony's lad turn up and sweep off the three
thousand a year that is left. Umph, if I am to have a steady hand
to-morrow I must get to bed. What unholy chance brought me into
this scrape?'



CHAPTER V

THE MEETING

Sir George awoke next morning, and, after a few lazy moments of
semi-consciousness, remembered what was before him, it is not to be
denied that he felt a chill. He lay awhile, thinking of the past and the
future--or the no future--in a way he seldom thought, and with a
seriousness for which the life he had hitherto led had left him little
time and less inclination.

But he was young; he had a digestion as yet unimpaired, and nerves still
strong; and when he emerged an hour later and, more soberly dressed than
was his wont, proceeded down the High Street towards the Cherwell
Bridge, his spirits were at their normal level. The spring sunshine
which gilded the pinnacles of Magdalen tower, and shone cool and
pleasant on a score of hoary fronts, wrought gaily on him also. The
milksellers and such early folk were abroad, and filled the street with
their cries; he sniffed the fresh air, and smiled at the good humour and