“There’s nothing to be done, I’m afraid, Miss Gault,” said Wolf gravely, forcing himself to accept the situation; “nothing except to make some money by hook or by crook! Do you think if I put the case to Urquhart, he’d give me a little more? We’re getting on first-rate with the History.”

Never were human eyelids lifted more whimsically than were those of Wolf’s interlocutor at this mild suggestion.

“Oh, my dear boy!” she chuckled. “You don’t know how funny you are. To ask that man for money to get married on.”

“No good, eh?” he murmured. “No, I suppose not. But you don’t think he’ll show me the door, do you?”

Miss Gault shook her head. “If he does, we’ll put all our wits together and get you something in Ramsgard. There are jobs⁠—” she added, thoughtfully puckering her brows.