I'm rather afraid Franks might think it a fine thing to go to the devil because he's been jilted.

It isn't fashionable nowadays; there might seem to be a sort of originality about it." They talked for a few minutes of business matters, and Sherwood briskly went his way.
Four days passed.

Warburton paid a visit to the Pomfrets, and had from them a confirmation of all he suspected regarding Norbert Franks.

The artist's behaviour at Ashstead had been very theatrical indeed; he talked much of suicide, preferably by the way of drink, and, when dissuaded from this, with a burst of tears--veritable tears--begged Ralph Pomfret to lend him money enough to go to Cairo; on which point, also, he met with kindliest opposition.

Thereupon, he had raged for half an hour against some treacherous friend, unnamed.