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The marriage was celebrated in Wroxton Church; and after bountiful rejoicings with certain loyalist families of Oxfordshire, the happy couple went up to London and lived in chambers until they moved into a house in Chancery Lane. It may surprise some readers of this book to learn that George Jeffreys, the odious judge of the Bloody Circuit, was a successful gallant.
On the contrary, as she handed him a large, square envelope, decorated with the strawberry leaves of a duke, her manner was humble. Sam opened the envelope and, with apparent carelessness, stuck it over the fireplace. "About that back rent," he said; "I have cabled for money, and as soon " "I know," said Mrs. Wroxton. "I read the cable." She was reading the card of invitation also.
"There's no hurry, sir," protested Mrs. Wroxton. "Any of my young gentlemen who is made welcome at Deptford House is made welcome here!" "Credit, Mrs. Wroxton," observed Sam, "is better than cash. If you have only cash you spend it and nothing remains. But with credit you can continue indefinitely to-to-" "So you can!" exclaimed Mrs. Wroxton enthusiastically. "Stay as long as you like, Mr.
If he does we will celebrate in champagne." "You will let me at least pay for the champagne?" begged Polly. "No," said Sam firmly "the duchess will furnish that." When Sam reached his lodgings in Russell Square, which he approached with considerable trepidation, he found Mrs. Wroxton awaiting him. But her attitude no longer was hostile.
Sam gave his card to the inspector and then sought refuge in a taxicab. For the second time he bade his friend good night. "And when next we dine," he called to him in parting, "choose a restaurant where the detective service is quicker!" Three hours later, brushed and repaired by Mrs. Wroxton, and again resplendent, Sam sat in a secluded corner of Deptford House and bade Polly a long farewell.
James's Palace the plenipotentiaries of the Allies and of Turkey were trying to bring peace to Europe; in Russell Square, Bloomsbury, Sam Lowell was trying to arrange a peace with Mrs. Wroxton, his landlady. The ultimatum of the Allies was: "Adrianople or fight!" The last words of Mrs. Wroxton were: "Five pounds or move out!" Sam did not have five pounds.
Would Turkey and Austria consent and peace ensue? Would they refuse and war follow? That morning those were the questions on the lips of every man in London save one. He was Sam Lowell; and he was asking himself another and more personal question: "How can I find five pounds and pacify Mrs. Wroxton?"
He was saying in a loud voice that made everybody turn round something about his left-scissors hook whatever that may have been. I discovered later that he was a low professional pugilist from New York a man named Spike Dillon, I think Captain Wroxton said. And Jimmy was giving him lunch at the Carlton!" Mr. Crocker said nothing.
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