I to inform Mr. Levison that you
refuse his offer of two hundred a year? You may come to us for
week-ends if you like; he is doing up the house at Tooting and giving
me a fine car."

"No, thank you, I prefer to remain where I am; and now if you've told
me everything you wished to say, I think I'll go to bed," and with a
brief "Good night" he departed.

But he did not go to bed when he found himself in his bare fourth-floor
room, but sat on the side of his lumpy mattress, and smoked cigarettes
for a couple of hours. He must squash this Cossie question at all
costs; even if it led to a disagreeable interview with his relations
and made a complete breach between them. In one sense this breach
would mean freedom and relief, and yet he was rather fond of his dowdy
old Aunt Emma, and he also liked that slangy slacker Sandy; he could
not bear to give anyone pain, or to appear shabby or ungrateful. Of
course he ought to have taken a firm stand weeks ago, and repelled
advances that had stolen upon him so insidiously. He saw this now; yet
how can you refuse to accept a flower from a girl, or be such a brute
as to leave her notes and telephones unanswered, or rise and desert her
when she nestles down beside you on the sofa? He felt as if he was on
the edge of a precipice; and must make a desperate, a life or death
struggle; be firm and show no weakness. To be weak would establish him
with a wife, house-linen, and the tea-pot, in some dingy little flat
near his office, where, plodding monotonous round like a horse in a
mill, he would probably end his days. Always too anxious to please and
to be liked, he had enjoyed lounging about at "Monte Carlo" and
chaffing his cousin, but the price now demanded was exorbitant. He
recalled Cossie, stout and smiling, with rather pretty eyes and a
ceaseless flow of chatter. She had ugly hands and thick red lips, her
hair was coarse, but abundant, and she frequently borrowed her sister's
rouge. Cossie was immensely good-natured and affectionate, and he
would be sorry to hurt her feelings, poor little thing.

Then as to his mother and her marriage to Levison, he hated to think of
it. He could not endure his future stepfather; between them there
existed a bottomless chasm of dislike and distrust. Levison considered
Shafto a conceited young cub, "but a clever cub"; and Shafto looked on
Levison as a purse-proud tradesman, ever bragging of his "finds," his
sales, and his titled customer