His misgiving proved to be well founded, and dinner that night was agreeable neither to him nor the girl. She had been reluctant to go down to it, on hearing that madame Garin could not be paid, and, though he persuaded her to go down, she sped past the bureau with averted eyes. It was useless to go in search of Beaufort; the only thing of which one could be positive with regard to his movements at this hour was that he would not be at his hotel; but Kent promised; her to see him before commencing work in the morning, and said that the amount necessary should be sent round to her at once. Beaufort was staying at the Grand, and he was; still in his room when Kent called there. He was found in bed, reading his letters. A suit of dress-clothes trailed disconsolately across a chair, and by the window a fur-coat and a hat-box had rolled on to the floor. He had not drunk his chocolate, but a tumbler of soda-water and something, and a syphon, stood on the table beside, him, surrounded by his watch and chain, some scattered cigarettes, and the bulk of his correspondence. He looked but half awake and cross. "What's the matter?" he murmured. "Sit down. There's a seat there, if you move those things. Will you have anything to drink?" "I won't have a drink, but I'll take one of those cigarettes, if I may," said Kent, sticking it in his mouth and inhaling gratefully. "I'm sorry to dun you, but you told me I could have the money 'Wednesday or Thursday,' and I'm pressed for it. I wish you would let me have it now; I want to send it up to my pension before going on to the shop." Beaufort put out his tongue and drank some more of the contents of the tumbler thirstily. "That'll be all right," he said, yawning; "don't you bother about that!" "But the point is, that I want it now," said Kent. "I dare say it would be 'all right,' but I'm in need of it this morning. My bill came up on Monday, and I put the woman off till yesterday--I can't put her off any more." "What? Is this the first week you owe her? My boy, a week! I haven't paid my bill here for eleven weeks. Let her wait." "You haven't a wife," said Kent. "_I_ have. It's damned unpleasant for a girl, I can tell you!" "How much does the old harpy want?" inquired the Editor, with resentment. "A hundred and sixty, more or less, with extras. I have the interesting document with me, if you'd like to see it." Billy gaped again. "Oh, well," he said, "we'll engineer it. You--you tell your wife not to worry herself; and don't trouble any more. I'll see you through." He settled his head on the pillow, and appeared to be under the impression that the difficulty was disposed of. "It's very good of you," answered Kent, as his tone seemed to call for gratitude. "I'm glad to hear you say so. But how soon can I have it?" "Eh? Oh, I shall be able to draw to-morrow. You shall have a hundred and sixty to-morrow. I give you my word of honour on it. _I_'ll work it for you somehow. I won't see you in a hole."