until he was in what
they would consider a good position, which would mean years of waiting.
He tried to picture Lalage, with her almost childish outlook on life,
being cross-examined by the cold and immaculate Ida, or sitting down to
dinner in the Marlow house, where even the servants would turn up their
noses at the mention of the ham and beef shop.

And then if, after they were married, they came across someone belonging
to Lalage's old life--that was the worst idea of all, intolerable,
wholly abominable. Insensibly, he quickened his pace, as though trying
to get away from the thought, then, finding that useless, turned into a
saloon bar, where he remained a full hour, drinking whisky practically
neat, and endeavouring to interest himself in the other people who came
into the place. When, at last, he did reach the club, he was feeling
much more certain of the wisdom of his choice and his ability to manage
his own affairs. He had determined to tell Douglas Kelly, as
practically his only friend, about his engagement; and yet, somehow, he
felt a distinct sense of relief when, in reply to his question, the
waiter said:

"Mr. Kelly, sir? He has been in, in a great hurry, just for letters and
so on. But," and he lowered his voice discreetly, knowing Kelly to be a
friend of Jimmy's and two other members being near, "but he's gone to
Russia, sir, all in a hurry. Told me to tell you he wouldn't be there
very long, at least he thought not."

As Jimmy turned away, he found himself face to face with Romsey of the
_Evening Post_, of whom he had seen a good deal during the last few
weeks.

"Hullo, Grierson," the other said. "You don't look too cheerful. I
suppose you are wondering how the smash is going to affect you."

Jimmy knit his brow. "What do you mean?" he demanded. "Who has gone to
smash?"

The reporter gave him an incredulous look. "Where on earth do you live
that you haven't heard? Why the _Comet_ ceased publication last night
without warning, which means there are forty of the best men in Fleet
Street out of jobs, ready to scramble for the space you and I and the
other fellows used to have. Cheerful prospect, isn't it?"

Jimmy did not answer. He was wondering dully whether any of these men
had ever felt the same degree of desperate anxiety about the future as
he was feeling then.

CHAPTER XVII

Things were bad in Fleet Street. Everyone said so, and therefore it
followed that the statement was true.