“No blooming fear of that, my boy. I’m going to have my fling first and see a bit of life and the world before I put my head in the sack—if I ever do.” “Some day you will,” said Little Chandler calmly. Ignatius Gallaher turned his orange tie and slate-blue eyes full upon his friend. “You think so?” he said. “You’ll put your head in the sack,” repeated Little Chandler stoutly, “like everyone else if you can find the girl.” He had slightly emphasised his tone and he was aware that he had betrayed himself; but, though the colour had heightened in his cheek, he did not flinch from his friend’s gaze. Ignatius Gallaher watched him for a few moments and then said: “If ever it occurs, you may bet your bottom dollar there’ll be no mooning and spooning about it. I mean to marry money. She’ll have a good fat account at the bank or she won’t do for me.” Little Chandler shook his head. “Why, man alive,” said Ignatius Gallaher, vehemently, “do you know what it is? I’ve only to say the word and tomorrow I can have the woman and the cash. You don’t believe it? Well, I know it. There are hundreds—what am I saying?—thousands of rich Germans and Jews, rotten with money, that’d only be too glad.... You wait a while my boy. See if I don’t play my cards properly. When I go about a thing I mean business, I tell you. You just wait.” He tossed his glass to his mouth, finished his drink and laughed loudly. Then he looked thoughtfully before him and said in a calmer tone: “But I’m in no hurry. They can wait. I don’t fancy tying myself up to one woman, you know.” He imitated with his mouth the act of tasting and made a wry face. “Must get a bit stale, I should think,” he said. Little Chandler sat in the room off the hall, holding a child in his arms. To save money they kept no servant but Annie’s young sister Monica came for an hour or so in the morning and an hour or so in the evening to help. But Monica had gone home long ago. It was a quarter to nine. Little Chandler had come home late for tea and, moreover, he had forgotten to bring Annie home the parcel of coffee from Bewley’s. Of course she was in a bad humour and gave him short answers. She said she would do without any tea but when it came near the time at which the shop at the corner closed she decided to go out herself for a quarter of a pound of tea and two pounds of sugar. She put the sleeping child deftly in his arms and said: “Here. Don’t waken him.”