EFFIE 67 



The joy Mr Dash wood managed to extract from 

 that usually unjoyful thing called hfe hinted at 

 alchemy rather than chemistry. Joy, too, with- 

 out any by-products in the way of headaches or 

 heartaches. Utterly irresponsible, but without 

 a serious vice, always bright, clean and healthy 

 and alert for any sort of sport as a terrier, he was 

 as good to meet and have around one as a spring 

 morning — that is to say, when one was in tune for 

 him. 



He had five hundred a year of his own (with 

 prospects of great wealth on the death of an uncle), 

 and even out of this poverty he managed to extract 

 pleasure of a sort in the excitement of setthng with 

 creditors and trying to make both ends meet — 

 which they never did. 



"What a joke!" said Mr Dashwood. "And 

 she never spht. She said she'd been leaving a 

 gentleman at an old castle — and she never grumbled 

 though she was nearly dropping off the car. I 

 say, isn't she a ripper? " 



" Here's to her," said French. " And now, 

 come out and have a look at the stables and 

 grounds. Lunch is at one and we have an hour." 



The youth and prettiness of Miss Grimshaw, 

 after the first pleasing shock, did not trouble him 

 in the least. A straight-minded man and the soul 

 of honour in everything not appertaining to bill 

 discounters, the propriety or impropriety of the 

 situation did not cause him a moment's thought. 

 The only thing that worried him for a second or 



