The Double Life Of Mr. Alfred Burton Part 37

"And therefore," Mr. Waddington replied, "I will not judge you. Yet do not think that I should ever allow myself to consider your proposition, even for a moment. Tell me, you say you've parted with your last bean--"

"And my time is almost up!" Burton interrupted, beating the table before him. "Only this morning, for an instant, I was afraid!"

"Try and keep your thoughts away from it," Mr. Waddington advised.

"Let me show you these new prints. By the bye, where is your wonderful little boy?"

"Gone--back to his mother!" Burton answered grimly. "Didn't you hear us mention him? I left him in my rooms one night and when I came back the whole place was in disorder. He was in a filthy state and sobbing for his home."

"My poor fellow!" Mr. Waddington murmured. "Come, I will take you with me to lunch. We can spend the afternoon in my library. I have some new treasures to show you. We will lose ourselves. For a short time, at least, you shall forget."

CHAPTER XXVI

THE END OF A WONDERFUL WORLD

Mr. Waddington turned his head away quickly and glanced half guiltily towards his companion. To his amazement, Burton had been gazing in the same direction. Their eyes met. Burton coughed.

"A remarkably fine woman, that," Mr. Waddington declared.

Burton looked at him in astonishment.

"My dear Mr. Waddington!" he exclaimed. "You cannot really think so!"

They both turned their heads once more. The woman in question was standing upon the doorstep of a milliner's shop, waiting for a taxicab.

In appearance she was certainly somewhat striking, but her hair was flagrantly dyed, her eyebrows darkened, her costume daring, her type obvious.

"A very fine woman indeed, I call her," Mr. Waddington repeated.

"Shouldn't mind taking her to lunch. Good mind to ask her."

Burton hesitated for a moment. Then a curious change came into his own face.

"She is rather fetching," he admitted.

The woman suddenly smiled. Mr. Waddington pulled himself together.

"It serves us right," he said, a little severely, and hastening his companion on. "I was looking at her only as a curiosity."

Burton glanced behind and move on reluctantly.

"I call her jolly good-looking," he declared.

Mr. Waddington pretended not to hear. They turned into Jermyn Street.

"There are some vases here, at this small shop round the corner, which I want you particularly to notice, Burton," he continued. "They are perfect models of old Etruscan ware. Did you ever see a more beautiful curve? Isn't it a dream? One could look at a curve like that and it has something the same effect upon one as a line of poetry or a single exquisite thought."

Burton glanced into the window and looked back again over his shoulder.

The lady, however, had disappeared.

"Hm!" he remarked. "Very nice vase. Let's get on to lunch. I'm hungry."

Mr. Waddington stopped short upon the pavement and gripped his companion's arm.

"Burton," he said, a trifle hesitatingly, "you don't think--you don't imagine--"

"Not a bit of it!" Burton interrupted, savagely. "One must be a little human now and then. By Jove, old man, there are some ties, if you like!

I always did think a yellow one would suit me."

Mr. Waddington pressed him gently along.

"I am not sure," he muttered, "that we are quite in the mood to buy ties. I want to ask you a question, Burton."

"Go ahead."

"You were telling me about this wonderful scheme of your friend the professor's, to make--Menatogen, I think you said. Did you part with both your beans?"

"Both," Burton replied, almost fiercely. "But I've another fortnight or so yet. It can't come before--it shan't!"

"You expect, I suppose, to make a great deal of money?" Mr. Waddington continued.

"We shall make piles," Burton declared. "I have had a large sum already for the beans. My pockets are full of money. Queer how light-hearted it makes you feel to have plenty of money. It's a dull world, you know, after all, and we are dull fellows. Think what one could do, now, with some of the notes I have in my pocket! Hire a motor-car, go to some bright place like the _Metropole_ at Brighton--a bright, cheerful, sociable place, I mean, where people who look interesting aren't above talking to you. And then a little dinner, and perhaps a music-hall afterwards, and some supper, and plenty to eat and drink--"

"Burton!" Mr. Waddington gasped. "Stop! Stop at once!"

"Why the d.i.c.kens should I stop?" Burton demanded.

Mr. Waddington was looking shocked and pained. "You don't mean to tell me," he exclaimed, "that this is your idea of a good time? That you would go to a hotel like the _Metropole_ and mix with the people whom you might meet there, and eat and drink too much, and call it enjoyment?

Burton, what has come to you?"

Burton was looking a little sullen.

"It's all very well," he grumbled. "We're too jolly careful of ourselves. We don't get much fun. Here's your poky little restaurant.

Let's see what it looks like inside."

They entered, and a _maitre d'hotel_ came hurrying to meet them. Burton, however, shook his head.

"This place is no good, Waddington," he decided. "Only about half-a-dozen stodgy old people here, no music, and nothing to look at.

Let's go where there's some life. I'll take you. My lunch. Come along."

Mr. Waddington protested but faintly. He murmured a word of apology to the _maitre d'hotel_, whom he knew, but Burton had already gone on ahead and was whistling for a taxi. With a groan, Mr. Waddington noticed that his hat had slipped a little on one side. There was a distinct return of his rakish manner.

"The _Milan!_" Burton ordered. "Get along as quick as you can. We are hungry."

The two men sat side by side in the taxicab. Mr. Waddington watched his companion in half-pained eagerness. Burton certainly was looking much more alert than earlier in the morning.

"I tell you money's a great thing," the latter went on, producing a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it. "I don't know why I should have worried about this little business adventure. I call it a first-cla.s.s idea. I'd like to be able to take taxies whenever I wanted them, and go round to the big restaurants and sit and watch the people.

Come to a music-hall one night, Mr. Waddington, won't you? I haven't seen anything really funny for a long time."