Bath is empty, but I people it as far as I can with the folk out of 'Evelina' and 'Persuasion.' How did you get on at Blachington?
and which of the Misses Merrifield went in the end?
Don't bother about the commissions.

Any time will do.
"Ever yours, "Derrick Vaughan." Poor old fellow! all the spirit seemed knocked out of him.

There was not one word about the Major, and who could say what wretchedness was veiled in that curt phrase, "we are settled in all right"?
All right! it was all as wrong as it could be! My blood began to boil at the thought of Derrick, with his great powers--his wonderful gift--cooped up in a place where the study of life was so limited and so dull.

Then there was his hunger for news of Freda, and his silence as to what had kept him away from Blachington, and about all a sort of proud humility which prevented him from saying much that I should have expected him to say under the circumstances.
It was Saturday, and my time was my own.

I went out, got his book for him; interviewed North Audley Street; spent a bad five minutes in company with that villain 'Bradshaw,' who is responsible for so much of the brain and eye disease of the nineteenth century, and finally left Paddington in the Flying Dutchman, which landed me at Bath early in the afternoon.