He thought, too, of the fretful invalid who lay in the next room to his, whose money had created his business and made his position in the world. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. Couldn’t make head nor tail of that note of yours. I mentioned sixty, I believe, when I was in Paris, but there are expenses, and just now business is bad. But that, and that sort of thing, is just a day-dream. She says that everyone in the house makes too much noise, my Dad snores, and that when the house is empty, the traffic noise is nearly deafening. CHAPTER XXVI.
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