I keep saying I don't know."

"You must have some plans?"

"I haven't." She put her lips together, and dimpled her chin, and again
cynically smiled. At any rate she had not resented his inquisition.

"I suppose you know you're behaving like a perfect fool?" he suggested
angrily. She did not wince.

"And what if I am? What's that got to do with you?" she asked, as if
pleasantly puzzled.

"You'll starve. You can't live for ever on two-and-seven."

"Well?"

"And the boy? Is he going to starve?"

"Oh," said Hilda, "Janet will look after him till something turns up.
The fact is, that's one reason why I allowed her to take him."

"`Something turns up,' `something turns up!'" Edwin repeated
deliberately, letting himself go. "You make me absolutely sick! It's
absolutely incredible how some people will let things slide! What in
the name of God Almighty do you think will turn up?"

"I don't know," she said, with a certain weakness, still trying to be
placidly bitter, and not now succeeding.

"Where is the bailiff-johnny?"

"He's in the kitchen with one of his friends, drinking."

Edwin with bravado flopped his hat down forcefully on a table, pushed a
chair aside, and strode towards the door.

"Where are you going?" she asked in alarm, standing up.

"Where do you suppose I'm going? I'm going to find out from that chap
how much will settle it. If you can't show any common sense for
yourself, other folks must show some for you--that's all. The brokers
in the house! I never heard of such work!"

And indeed, to a respected and successful tradesman, the entrance of the
bailiffs into a house did really seem to be the very depth of disaster
and shame for the people of that house. Edwin could not remember that
he had ever before seen a bailiff. To him a bailiff was like a bug--
something heard of, something known to exist, but something not likely
to enter the field of vision of an honest and circumspect man.

He would deal with the bailiff. He would have a short way with the
bailiff. Secure in the confidence of his bankers, he was ready to bully
the innocent bailiff. He would not reflect, would not pause. He had
heated himself. His steam was up, and he would not let the pressure be
weakened by argumentative hesitations. His emotion was not
disagreeable.

When he was in the passage he heard the sound of a sob. Prudently, he
had not banged the door after him. He stopped, and listened. Was it