ece of
dispensable property I had not parted with--"_she_ won't mind helping
you. But nobody else is going to--except yourself."

She looked at her watch. "I must be off." She turned again. "There
is something I was forgetting. B--"--she mentioned the name of the
dramatist whose play Vane had stolen--"has been looking for you for
the last three months. If you hadn't been an idiot you might have saved
yourself a good deal of trouble. He is quite certain it was Vane stole
the manuscript. He asked the nurse to bring it to him an hour after
Vane had left the house, and it couldn't be found. Besides, the man's
character is well known. And so is yours. I won't tell it you," she
laughed; "anyhow, it isn't that of a knave."

She made a step towards me, then changed her mind. "No," she said, "I
shan't shake hands with you till you have paid the last penny that you
owe. Then I shall know that you are a man."

She did not look back. I watched her, till the sunlight, streaming in my
eyes, raised a golden mist between us.

Then I went to my work.

CHAPTER IX.

THE PRINCESS OF THE GOLDEN LOCKS SENDS PAUL A RING.

It took me three years to win that handshake. For the first six months I
remained in Deptford. There was excellent material to be found there
for humorous articles, essays, stories; likewise for stories tragic
and pathetic. But I owed a hundred and fifty pounds--a little over
two hundred it reached to, I found, when I came to add up the actual
figures. So I paid strict attention to business, left the tears to be
garnered by others--better fitted maybe for the task; kept to my own
patch, reaped and took to market only the laughter.

At the beginning I sent each manuscript to Norah; she had it copied out,
debited me with the cost received payment, and sent me the balance. At
first my earnings were small; but Norah was an excellent agent; rapidly
they increased. Dan grew quite cross with her, wrote in pained surprise
at her greed. The "matter" was fair, but in no way remarkable. Any
friend of hers, of course, he was anxious to assist; but business was
business. In justice to his proprietors, he could not and would not pay
more than the market value. Miss Deleglise, replying curtly in the third
person, found herself in perfect accord with Mr. Brian as to business
being business. If Mr. Brian could not afford to pay her price for
material so excellent, other editors with whom Miss Deleglise was
equally well acquaint