Orders were given, arrangements made, packing was done.

Aylmer was suddenly quite well, quite happy.
In a few hours he was in the midnight express due to arrive in London at six in the morning--happy beyond expression.
By ten o'clock in the morning he would hear her voice on the telephone.
He met a poor man just outside the hotel selling matches, in rags.
Aylmer gave him three hundred francs.

He pretended to himself that he didn't want any more French money.

He felt he wanted someone else to be happy too..