heard Bosinney murmur, "you can't live like a
gentleman in one of Littlemaster's--he builds for manufacturers."

Soames made a deprecating movement; he had been identified with a
gentleman; not for a good deal of money now would he be classed with
manufacturers. But his innate distrust of general principles revived.
What the deuce was the good of talking about regularity and self-respect?
It looked to him as if the house would be cold.

"Irene can't stand the cold!" he said.

"Ah!" said Bosinney sarcastically. "Your wife? She doesn't like the
cold? I'll see to that; she shan't be cold. Look here!" he pointed, to
four marks at regular intervals on the walls of the court. "I've given
you hot-water pipes in aluminium casings; you can get them with very good
designs."

Soames looked suspiciously at these marks.

"It's all very well, all this," he said, "but what's it going to cost?"

The architect took a sheet of paper from his pocket:

"The house, of course, should be built entirely of stone, but, as I
thought you wouldn't stand that, I've compromised for a facing. It ought
to have a copper roof, but I've made it green slate. As it is, including
metal work, it'll cost you eight thousand five hundred."

"Eight thousand five hundred?" said Soames. "Why, I gave you an outside
limit of eight!"

"Can't be done for a penny less," replied Bosinney coolly.

"You must take it or leave it!"

It was the only way, probably, that such a proposition could have been
made to Soames. He was nonplussed. Conscience told him to throw the
whole thing up. But the design was good, and he knew it--there was
completeness about it, and dignity; the servants' apartments were
excellent too. He would gain credit by living in a house like that--with
such individual features, yet perfectly well-arranged.

He continued poring over the plans, while Bosinney went into his bedroom
to shave and dress.

The two walked back to Montpellier Square in silence, Soames watching him
out of the corner of his eye.

The Buccaneer was rather a good-looking fellow--so he thought--when he
was properly got up.

Irene was bending over her flowers when the two men came in.

She spoke of sending across the Park to fetch June.

"No, no," said Soames, "we've still got business to talk over!"

At lunch he was almost cordial, and kept pressing Bosinney to eat. He
was pleased to see the architect in such high spirits, and left him to
spend the af