hat the
pair have netted over a hundred and sixty thousand francs.'

He reflected upon Cosette, and he reflected upon Geraldine. It was like
returning to two lumps of sugar in one's tea after having got accustomed
to three.

He was very proud of himself for having so ruthlessly abandoned Monte
Carlo, Cosette, Loulou, Tom, and the whole apparatus. And he had the
right to be.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE NEW LIFE

They were nervous, both of them. Although they had been legally and
publicly married and their situation was in every way regular, although
the new flat in Ashley Gardens was spacious, spotless, and luxurious to
an extraordinary degree, although they had a sum of nearly seven
thousand pounds at the bank, although their consciences were clear and
their persons ornamental, Henry and Geraldine were decidedly nervous as
they sat in their drawing-room awaiting the arrival of Mrs. Knight and
Aunt Annie, who had accepted an invitation to afternoon tea and dinner.

It was the third day after the conclusion of their mysterious honeymoon.

'Have one, dearest?' said Geraldine, determined to be gay, holding up a
morsel which she took from a coloured box by her side. And Henry took
it with his teeth from between her charming fingers. 'Lovely, aren't
they?' she mumbled, munching another morsel herself, and he mumbled that
they were.

She was certainly charming, if English. Thoughts of Cosette, which used
to flit through his brain with a surprising effect that can only be
likened to an effect of flamingoes sweeping across an English meadow,
had now almost entirely ceased to disturb him. He had but to imagine
what Geraldine's attitude towards Cosette would have been had the two
met, in order to perceive the overpowering balance of advantages in
Geraldine's favour.

Much had happened since Cosette.

As a consequence of natural reaction, he had at once settled down to be
extremely serious, and to take himself seriously. He had been assisted
in the endeavour by the publication of an article in a monthly review,
entitled 'The Art of Henry Shakspere Knight.' The article explained to
him how wonderful he was, and he was ingenuously and sincerely thankful
for the revelation. It also, incidentally, showed him that 'Henry
Shakspere Knight' was a better signature for his books than 'Henry S.
Knight,' and he decided to adopt it in his next work. Further, it had
enormously quickened in him the sense of his mission in the world,