Dealing with Lali had taught them all much of the human heart
that they had never known before, and the result thereof was wisdom.
They talked casually enough for the rest of the ride, and before they
parted at the door Frank received his commission for Regent Street, and
accepted it with delight, as a schoolboy might a gift. He was absurdly
grateful for any favours from her, any sign of her companionship. They
met at luncheon; then, because Lali had to keep an engagement in Eaton
Square, they parted again, and Frank and Richard took a walk, after a
long hour with the child, who still so hungered for his sword that Frank
disobeyed orders, and dragged Richard off to Oxford Street to get one.
He was reduced to a beatific attitude of submission, for he knew that he
had few odds with him now, and that he must live by virtue of new
virtues. He was no longer proud of himself in any way, and he knew that
no one else was, or rather he felt so, and that was just the same.
He talked of the boy, he talked of his wife, he laid plans, he tore them
down, he built them up again, he asked advice, he did not wait to hear
it, but rambled on, excited, eager.
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