"No, I'm not wishing that at all, boy," said Cleek quietly, with an odd little smile. "So don't you worry your ginger head over such fool notions as that. The day I want to get rid of you all--Miss Lorne, yourself, and Mr. Narkom--is the day that sees me in my grave. And then I'll only be waiting to wring your hands across the Big Beyond. And if you ever mention royalties and 'specturs' and 'crash-pots' to me again, Dollops, I'll--I'll cut you out of my will.... Finished?"
"Well, then, come along upstairs and smoke a weed with me. Unless you've something better to do. I've need of a man's company to-night, for my mood's maudlin, and a chat over old times will straighten things out for me."
"_Rar_ver!" Then to himself: "Missin' Miss Ailsa, like any uvver bloomin' lovesick strain," thought Dollops to himself, with a shake of the head. "Well, orl I kin s'y is, Dollops me lad, it's a good thing you ain't in love yerself. You love yer tummy better'n the gels--and a fairer deal it is, too. Fer yer _can_ tell when you're proper fed up, and starve a bit in consequence. But the lydies!--well, they never lets yer leave 'em alone! 'E ain't 'ad no letter this mornin'--that's wot the trouble is, bless 'is 'eart!"
So Dollops followed Cleek upstairs to his room, and in the short twilight of the summer evening sat with him, curled up on a cushion at his feet, and smoked and talked and gazed at the great Castle in front of them, almost lost in the twilight mists, like the true little _gamin_ he was, until the lonesomeness had gone from Cleek's soul, and the night had thrown her mantle over the sky.
"Time for you to be getting into your little 'downy', old chap," he said, with a stretch and a yawn and a smile down into the eager young face that rested against his knee, as a dog might do, faithfulness in the attitude. "Or we'll be having no salmon-fishing to-morrow, for you'll be over-sleeping yourself, and the fish will have swum to other waters, getting tired of waiting for you. Cut along now, there's a good boy."
"Orl right, Guv'nor. Thank yer, sir, for this--this rippin' fine evenin'. And fer lettin' me pertend I was for the moment, like, a real pal to yer. I shan't never ferget that. Good-night, sir, and pleasant dreams."