ld we have become what we
are without the modern science and art of advertising? Till advertising
sprang up, the world was barbarous. Do you suppose people kept
themselves clean before they were reminded at every corner of the
benefits of soap? Do you suppose they were healthy before every wall and
hoarding told them what medicine to take for their ailments? Not they
indeed! Why, a man like you--an enlightened man, I see it in your face
(he was as ugly as Ben's bull-dog), ought to be proud of helping on the
age." And I made him downright ashamed of himself. He asked me to have a
bit of dinner, and we came to terms over the cheese.'
In this strain did Luckworth Crewe continue to talk across the gloomy
solitudes of Soho. And Nancy would on no account have had him cease.
She was fascinated by his rough vigour and by his visions of golden
prosperity. It seemed to her that they reached very quickly the
restaurant he had in view. With keen enjoyment of the novelty, she
followed him between tables where people were eating, drinking, smoking,
and took a place beside him on a cushioned seat at the end of the room.
'I know you're tired,' he said. 'There's nearly half-an-hour before you
need move.'
Nancy hesitated in her choice of a refreshment. She wished to have
something unusual, something that fitted an occasion so remarkable,
yet, as Crewe would of course pay, she did not like to propose anything
expensive.
'Now let me choose for you,' her companion requested. 'After all that
rough work, you want something more than a drop of lemonade. I'm going
to order a nice little bottle of champagne out of the ice, and a pretty
little sandwich made of whatever you like.'
'Champagne--?'
It had been in her thoughts, a sparkling audacity. Good; champagne let
it be. And she leaned back in defiant satisfaction.
'I didn't expect much from Jubilee Day,' observed the man of business,
'but that only shows how things turn out--always better or worse than
you think for. I'm not likely to forget it; it's the best day I've had
in my life yet, and I leave you to guess who I owe _that_ to.'
'I think this is good wine,' remarked Nancy, as if she had not heard
him.
'Not bad. You wouldn't suppose a fellow of my sort would know anything
about it. But I do. I've drunk plenty of good champagne, and I shall
drink better.'
Nancy ate her sandwich and smiled. The one glass sufficed her; Crewe
drank three. Presently, looking at her with his
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