You must look forward to that, my dear." His voice rose to a veritable menace as he sketched the future which awaited them and then sank again.
"How's London!" he growled, harping scornfully on the unfortunate phrase.
Ballantyne had had luck that night.

He had chanced upon two of the banalities of ordinary talk which give an easy occasion for the bully.
Thresk's twenty-four hours to give to Chitipur provided the best opening.
Only Thresk was a guest--not that that in Ballantyne's present mood would have mattered a great deal, but he was a guest whom Ballantyne had it in his mind to use.

All the more keenly therefore he pounced upon Stella.
But in pouncing he gave Thresk a glimpse into the real man that he was, a glimpse which the barrister was quick to appreciate.
"How's London?
A lot of London we shall be able to afford! God! what a life there's in store for us! Breakfast, lunch and dinner, dinner, breakfast, lunch--all among the next-door neighbours." And upon that he flung himself back in his chair and reached out his arms.
"Give me Rajputana!" he cried, and even through the thickness of his utterance his sincerity rang clear as a bell.

"You can stretch yourself here.

The cities! Live in the cities and you can only wear yourself out hankering to do what you like.