“Why, if a man has got any heart, doesn’t he want to see an old friend, Nick?—I must call you Nick—we always did call you young Nick when we knew you meant to marry the old widow. Some said you had a handsome family likeness to old Nick, but that was your mother’s fault, calling you Nicholas. Aren’t you glad to see me again? I expected an invite to stay with you at some pretty place. My own establishment is broken up now my wife’s dead. I’ve no particular attachment to any spot; I would as soon settle hereabout as anywhere.”
“May I ask why you returned from America? I considered that the strong wish you expressed to go there, when an adequate sum was furnished, was tantamount to an engagement that you would remain there for life.”
“Never knew that a wish to go to a place was the same thing as a wish to stay. But I did stay a matter of ten years; it didn’t suit me to stay any longer. And I’m not going again, Nick.”
Here Mr. Raffles winked slowly as he looked at Mr. Bulstrode.
“Do you wish to be settled in any business? What is your calling now?”
“Thank you, my calling is to enjoy myself as much as I can. I don’t care about working any more. If I did anything it would be a little travelling in the tobacco line—or something of that sort, which takes a man into agreeable company. But not without an independence to fall back upon. That’s what I want: I’m not so strong as I was, Nick, though I’ve got more color than you. I want an independence.”
“That could be supplied to you, if you would engage to keep at a distance,” said Mr. Bulstrode, perhaps with a little too much eagerness in his undertone.
“That must be as it suits my convenience,” said Raffles coolly. “I see no reason why I shouldn’t make a few acquaintances hereabout. I’m not