‘Oh, of course,’ replied M. Vandeloup, mockingly, ‘money, money, always money; do you think I’m a bank, always to be drawn on like this?’ The dumb man made no sign that he had heard, but stood sullenly rocking himself to and fro an’d chewing a wisp of the grass he had picked off his coat. ‘Here,’ said the young man, taking out a sovereign and giving it to Pierre; ‘take this just now and don’t bother me, or upon my word,’ with a disdainful look, ‘I shall positively have to hand you over to the law.’ Pierre glanced up suddenly, and Vandeloup caught the gleam of his eyes under the shadow of the hat. ‘Oh! you think it will be dangerous for me,’ he said, in a gay tone; ‘not at all, I assure you. I am a gentleman, and rich; you are a pauper, and disreputable. Who will believe your word against mine? My faith! your assurance is quite refreshing. Now, go away, and don’t trouble me again, or,’ with a sudden keen glance, ‘I will do as I say.’ He nodded coolly to the dumb man, and strode gaily along under the shade of the heavily foliaged oaks, while Pierre looked at the sovereign, slipped it into his pocket, and slouched off in the opposite direction without even a glance at his patron. At the top of the street Vandeloup stepped into a cab, and telling the man to drive to the St Kilda Station, in Elizabeth Street, went off into a brown study. Pierre annoyed him seriously, as he never seemed to get rid of him, and the dumb man kept turning up every now and then like the mummy at the Egyptian feast to remind him of unpleasant things. ‘Confound him!’ muttered Vandeloup, angrily, as he alighted at the station and paid the cabman, ‘he’s more trouble than Bebe was; she did take the hint and go, but this man, my faith!’ shrugging his shoulders, ‘he’s the devil himself for sticking.’ All the way down to St Kilda his reflections were of the same unpleasant nature, and he cast about in his own mind how he could get rid of this pertinacious friend. He could not turn him off openly, as Pierre might take offence, and as he knew more of M. Vandeloup’s private life than that young gentleman cared about, it would not do to run the risk of an exposure. ‘There’s only one thing to be done,’ said Gaston, quietly, as he walked down to Mrs Villiers’ house; ‘I will try my luck at marrying Madame Midas; if she consents, we can go away to Europe as man and wife; if she does not I will go to America, and, in either case, Pierre will lose trace of me.’ With this comfortable reflection he went into the house and was shown into the drawing room by the servant. There were no lights in the room, as it was not sufficiently dark for them, and Vandeloup smiled as he saw a fire in the grate. ‘My faith!’ he said to himself, ‘Madame is as chilly as ever.’