Of course, I made out as you'd been suffering from a bad 'eadache, and I shouldn't wonder if that's the truth, sir." Warburton set his teeth and said nothing.
"You wouldn't like to take just a little 'oliday, sir ?" returned Allchin.

"This next week, I could manage well enough.

It might do you good, sir, to have a mouthful of sea air--" "I'll think about it," broke in the other abruptly.
He was going away without another word, but, in crossing the shop, he caught his henchman's eye fixed on him with a troublous gaze.
Self-reproach checked his steps.
"You're quite right, Allchin," he said in a confidential tone.

"I'm not quite up to the mark, and perhaps I should do well to take a holiday.
Thank you for speaking about it." He walked home, and there, on his table, he found a letter from Franks, which he eagerly tore open.

"I have as good as decided," wrote the artist.