“I suppose all life is an affair of chances. The telegram dispatched, his obligation cancelled, Ah Cum proceeded homeward, chuckling occasionally. He was an odd one, especially for a young man. The lad had just barely jangled it, when hurrying footsteps could be heard inside. You shall have a house out at Balham or Sydenham, and two servants. My mind is full of ideas and images that I have been cherishing and accumulating—dreams of travelling side by side, of lunching quietly together in some jolly restaurant, of moonlight and music and all that side of life, of seeing you dressed like a queen and shining in some brilliant throng—mine; of your looking at flowers in some old-world garden, our garden—there are splendid places to be got down in Surrey, and a little runabout motor is quite within my means. \" \"All right. ’ She paused, struggling for the word.
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