She handed him his clothes, and he arranged them orderly and with an unerring precision that appealed to her methodical mind. His clothes were beautiful too: so fine, so fresh, so like himself, Ruth thought. She handled the silken shirts, when his back was turned, and stroked the flimsy vests. Once he turned swiftly to find her pressing some diaphanous under-wear against her cheek. He laughed; and she blushed. "That's from Cashmere," he said. "Pleasant to the touch--what?" "It's beautiful," answered Ruth. When Ernie entered with the heavy luggage, Ruth was kneeling at the suit-case, the Captain standing over her. Ernie's somewhat artificial enthusiasm suddenly melted away. He wasn't very pleased. The Captain had brought a quantity of luggage too, and clearly meant to make a prolonged stay. CHAPTER XXXV HIS ORIGIN Captain Royal was the son of his father; but very few people knew anything about that father. And those few knew little more than that he had made money in business in the North. The business in fact was that of an unregistered dentist at Blackpool. Albert Ryle was a curious little fellow. He lived more like a machine than it was possible to conceive a human being could live. He was so regular as to be almost automatic: he had no virtues, and his vices were vigorously suppressed. Early in life he planned out his career according to Programme, and he stuck to it with methodical precision throughout. During his working life, happily for him, there were no such seismic disturbances, utterly beyond his control, as have completely upset the Programme of like automaton men in our own day. Nor did the unexpected and catastrophic in the way of illness or sudden love ever overwhelm him. He did not marry: that was part of the Programme. He did not enjoy himself. He lived meanly; but his practice grew and grew, especially among the well-to-do artisans. The middle and upper class he left in the main to the qualified practitioners. He was extraordinarily efficient, thorough, and precise in his work; he was daring too. He would administer gas himself, and happily had no accidents. He spent nothing on himself, and studied the stock-markets with the same meticulous care which he gave to the human mouth. On his fiftieth birthday he totted up his capital account and found he had made £25,000--just six months ahead of scheduled time. His end had been attained. The first part of the Programme had now been accomplished. Next day--or as near as it was possible--he sold his practice, took down his brass-plate, said good-bye to no one, for he knew no one except in the way of business; and for the first time in his life crossed the Trent, never to recross it. Albert Ryle never looked back: he moved forward steady as a caterpillar on the trail.