CHAPTER I.
guts. widely different
.. .' yer bound together
‘ ...-o d the night at Janu-
- meat of the border
‘ .t‘ l'ereinl ”VCm'
.. gm» of Khmsanl—
that. speculated
- 'lwance in the light
‘li the news spread
of Commons; but
inner lobbies were
winch how far lua-
lviy upholding the
he strings by which
incoa, as uptm the
h the St. George's
.ury evening newspa-
wpon the incident and
faced of the govern
.‘_
, .
once before. Lakely—
:lud editor of the St.
at stepped outside, the,
n-lo of tradition and tak-
liliu modern Journalism.
he essays-ll deeper wa-
iminl‘P nd under an al-
'~~:l¢mna l adlnt: declared
.i i~ apparently innocent bor-
n; .u- had less an outcome of
:m .ul antagonism than a first
it'll-x of a innumhcrished Rus-
sl'iu-ino. growing to a gradual
mi under the. "drift" policy of
prom-n: llritish government.
ot'l'ol't produced by this pro-
vl‘illi'ni, if strong. was varied.
nth-rs of the Opposition saw. or
ugllt they saw. a reflection of it
. the smiling uni-oncem on tho Min-
rerial benches: and the government
ad an tmeas'y sense that ill-hind the
newly kindled interest on the other
side of the House lay some mystcrl‘
our scouting of battle from afar off.
not though these impressions ran
.1» electricity through the. almos-
ro. lmlilinz tangible marked their
. suite. and the ordinary business
.,,.. House proceeded until haif'
eleven. when an adjournment
ilanPd,
.- first man to hurry from his
nus John Chill-ore. member for
Work. He. [unused out of iiii‘
. quickly. with the half-furtivo
:. us that marks a self-absorbed
Hill as he passed the police-
.iandinc stolldiy under the
doorway of the big court»
swerved a little. no if star»
i of his thoughts. lie realized
. . non-p fl'ifllf‘lfl't before it Wn! aft—
mzr, abod. and pulled himself to-
t- with nervous irritability.
’i :27" night. r'onsflt'ble!‘ he’snm
.llmrato carelessness.
'i-::.v night. sir, and thickening
ml." resulonded the man.
“\rl, indeed t" ("hilcote's answer
absent. The constable‘s cheery
~ .,, :- jarred on him. and for the set--
time he was (onscious of sense-
irritatinn. \Vithcmt a further
..m‘p at the man. he slipped out
“'n the court-yard and turned to-
. lrds the main gate.
At the mite-Way two cab lamps
«owed through the mist of shifting
u»; like the eyes of a oat cat. and
the familiar “Ransom, ir?” came to
‘lm lndistfnt-tly.
llo paused by force of custom;
rll. stopping forward, had almost
.wilod the open door when a new
aniline caused him to draw back.
"Va." he said. hurriedly. "No. I'll
‘l‘.
ni
,.
‘.»
'l 'l‘.
.. cnb'man muttered. lashed his
and with a clatter of boots
azirneas wheeled away: while
still with uncertain hasti~
frosted tho road in the direc-
.r \Vhitelaail.
- "ii the Abbey the to: had pan
lifted. and in the railed gar-
at tam-s the Houses of Parlia-
‘he statues were visible in a
.li way. llut i'hilcnte's glance
ashlblo and Indifferent; hc
. the railings hecdlessly. and.
'1: the fund with the speed of
familiarity. gained Whitehall
. left-hand side.
wro the to: had dmmved. and.
.; upward towards Trafalgar
ire. it amped that the chain of
is extended little further titan
Horse Guards. and that beyond
- nothing.
’ii'llnsfl"0“3 of this capricious al-
~..irion between darkness and
it. t'hilcole continued his course.
a clone observer tho manner of
_,. going had both intorcst and sug-
gestion: for ”much he walked on.
.ipparr'l'l)’ self-onward. yet at
m dozen steps he started at some
‘iiinli or some touch. like a man
one nervous system is painfully
tor-strung.
daintainin: his haste. he went de«
'"ntriy forward. oblivious of. the
that at each step the curtain of
I'\l
t
.l'
lion
reasonably
annoyance
same manner. possibly in we
and ()ililcotn-
bered this almost at the not
his nervous jar.
IOK‘K‘
mt:
“mam:
current
aerial?“ by
finishes-simian:
mmmmboothsmnmfimtbn.
W
hilly. inwhoee scrcon'veraidn. a
~
Whores-Poona now appearing
{cclln
in h
amour
sound
PPYNWV
lion.
mind
the
Nine
“Ben
The
“I'm
said.
find
ment and
shop.
“Yes.
salvation.
"mnoss about him became closer.
‘lr: .-or, more tangible; that at each
*~ "ill lhe passers—by jostled each
'hvr with greater frequency. Then.
" i-tiy. with a sudden realization
it had happened. he stood quite
\l‘Lthout anticipation or prepa-
ie had walked fall into the
I
that,
r.
4» into the night.
lw' (
Lug.
uxo n
of voice:
one‘s
night like this." .
Chilcole made a murmur te-
drcw hat-l: agate
1
him to be so entrapped.
z 01““?!
I .
moved forward. then Ill.
uncertain of himself. t
an}. an that night the consciousness that ins
. within a four years’ unbearable, he. moved (Mir-9
a certain portions of his eyes wide‘ open. onus:
. on that night came out as a protection and‘
The fog had closed incm
as heavily as in front. i“
all possibility of rctrcalut
him in the darkness “as m
1 at, at the time. ... of wim—Cheeflul. dubio-
ed. or angry; now and like
brushed his or a hand in:
tea‘tlvely. It was a so.
Rot-pin: \\\'ii
still l‘l'dl on: lilt‘i‘i‘ “as a {'0
lilthi‘l'llt‘lliS
is
ill-ll in
R.
(‘li
ii
when ev
becomes abnormal.
exclamation. the other math.
struck on his nerves: l-rlmiuf
darkness.
repetition of his own.
out of
he
or
Elly for;
other I
afraid t
"it wnul:
\\'ll\'
We can see now me
blind man scores in the [iii ‘7
This is almost fl-
tion of the fog: of siv
Were you out in Hunt?“
habit of his to jump from (n-
tence to another, a habit thd 1'
grown of late.
The
amped his way
“No. I was out of England sixrs
ago." '
’ "You were lucky.” Chilcoto
."mk-bsg of the fog—a thickness I0 up the collar of his coat. “It a
' il b! an CDCMMOI’E atrocious tag. as black as tlihue'llviduallty. either past or present.
n figures of a moment he- more universal.
Mod. the street lamps were it was the night Lexington m :ii in With IL"
' great sugar speech.
frollna was a sense of were found on Lambeth no
at the sudden Million, his three in the morning, having 1. t ‘Do you imagine that Lexington
basic.
they
ad
e
'izht'ii ll
h
.
in iiit'
than
four—m it'ltilf
the solitude filled with
He (‘nliili :l
l the utmost;-
no]. but (‘hilcote was in that
coli'c
The oil's
on the
soundt a
ovtlry tcn‘n
London. given the samo soi-
and the same odncatint
oxmcted it"s
:lmusl-ltll-ntm
!" he sa'qd.
“I‘m tryinc to find rlrosn “fie.
hilt iilP t'ilzlnl-cs‘ Room rathoz'
nuzbed lurid
again the laugh upset Chillie
wondered uncomfortably ills
becoming a prey to illusion
the stranccr Spoke before 3-
tion had solved itself,
hey are srie
i be aiulostto
lo the den
"3
stranzer hm
to the shont.
I remember i
Some
. a thrill of nervous apprehen- House at twelve."
" 7; i" the oblivim that It“ allowed
Chilcote seldom indulged in
il'riii‘
inlo
For a space he gralt
him without result, then its
tout-hell tho coill surface
ten-d shop~front. and a tlu‘is.
surnnl-o passt-d lilritllL’ll h.h
and clinulis‘
landmark ”‘ “ "3““ man ‘C‘iWhat was the real cause of his col-
siaril‘ll forward with fresh.
For a dozen paces ho mp» { it dr:
idly and mu \onl_\'. iiil'll lisl ' \visltml to 2” at the truth."
result ill‘t'iil‘l't"‘.
man coming
Ii-
0.
‘
nlscences. but this conversation with
an unseen qmtpanlon was more like
a soliloquy than a dialogue. He was
almost surprised into an exclamation
when the other caught up his words.
“Ah! The sugar speech l" he said.
"Odd that I should have been look-
ing it up only yesterday. Who: a
magnificent dressing-up of a dry sub-
ject it waai What a career Lexi-o
ton promised in those days!”
Chilcote changed his position.
“You are interested in the muddle
down at Westminster?” he asked.
sarcastically.
"1—?" It was the turn of the
Guy Bates as Jolcote. M.P., in “The Masquera-
der.” >
”Will, a mono-m or pusslio stranger to draw hack a step. "Oh.
which the cram-him: \\'il(.‘ i read my newspaper with the other
oaths and lauzilwr from till five million. that is all. I am an
irstihc of thi- roacluay. uzttl- outsider." His voice sounded curt:
iifiliollswlfl'i'llill[Hiiliil‘lt‘ni. ithc warmth that admiration had
brought into it a moment before had
frozen abruptly.
"An outsider!" Chllcote repeated.
“What an enviable word 1“
"Possibly. to those who are well
inside the ring. llut lot us go back
’to Ll-xinzton. What a pinnacle the
man rear-bod. and what a drop he
had! it has always seemed to me
an extraordinary instance of the hu-
man leavcn running through us all.
asked. suddenly. “Was
drink? 1 have often
ho
or
Ultimo?"
2’15
Again Chilcuto changed his atti»
tud--.
“is truth ovor worth getting at?"
The shock was abrupt. .‘n he asked. ii'rclcvanlly.
swore simultaneously till "in H” C -
.. > use of a white man— es.
laughed, The whole liliniIS- I y
In: exchanges his privacy for the in-
terest of the masses. If he gives
the masses the details of his succens.
why not the details of his failure?
But was it drink that sucked him
under?"
“Nu." Chilcotc‘s response came
after a pause.
"Drugs?”
Again Chilcote hesitated. And at
the moment of his indecision a wo-
man brushcd past him. laughing
boisterousiy. The sound jarred him.
“Was it drugs?" the stranger went
on easily. “I have always had a
theory that it was." I
“‘ch. It was morphia." The im-
swer came before Chiicote had real-
ized it. The woman's laugh at the
stranger’s quiet persistence had con-
trived to draw it from him. Instant-
ly he had spoken he looked about
him quickly. like one who has for a
moment forgotten it necessary vigi-
lance.
There was silence while the stran-
gel‘ thought over the information Just
given him. Then he spoke again.
with a new touch of vehemence.
“So I imagined.” he said. “Though.
on my soul. I never really credited it.
To have gained so much. and to
have thrown it away for a common
He made an exclamation ot
.hilcote gave an unsteady laugh.
it judge hardly." he said.
be other repeated his sound of
erupt. "Jastly so. No man has
right to squander what another.
a give his soul for.
30‘.
e tone was sarcastic. but the nar-
a 3m sounded thin.
“Yes. All power is the outcome. of
e“(loosen tfor the man who
.. e quiet contempt of the tone
1- ins Chilcote.
do no fight?” he asked. impulsive-
"Can't you picture the man's
u:
. curate.”
struggle “lie the vice flat had
been slave ”dually became nas-
ter?“ Be flopped to take breath.
and in the cold phase that followed
it seemed to bus that the other made
a murmur of incredullw.
“Perhaps you think of morphia as
a pleasure?" be added. "think of
it. instead. as a tyrant—that tor-
tures the mind if held to. and the
body it cast 01!.” Urged by the dark-
ness and the silence. of his compan-
ion. tba rein at his speech had loos-
ened. n: that moment he was not
Gimme. the member for East Wat-L
whose mood- and silence. were pro-
verbial. but Galleon the man whose
mind craved the read of speech.
“Yul talk as the world nuts—out
of ignorance and self-righteousness.“
he went on. “Before you condemn
Lexington you should put yourself in
his place—m .
“As you do!" the other laughed
Unsuspecting and inoffensive as
the laugh was, it startled Chilcote.
With a sudden alarm he pulled him-
self up.
“I—-?‘ He tried to echo the
laugh. but the attempt fell flat. “Oh.
i merely speak from-from Dc Quin-
cy. But‘! believe this fog is shifting
——-I really believe it is shifting. Can
you oblige me with a light! I had
almost forgotten that a man may
still smoke though he has been de-
prived of sight." He spoke fast and
disjointcdly. He was overwhelmed
by the idea that he had let himself
V;.:o. and possessed by the wish to ob-
literate the consequences. As he
talked he fumbled for his cigarette-
case.
His head was heat as be searched
for it nervously. “'ltbout looking
up. he was conscious that the cloud
of for: that held him prisoner was
lifting. rolling: away. closing back
again. preparatory to final disap~
poarancc. Having found the case.
he put a cigarette between his lips
and raised his hand at the moment
lhal tho stranger drew a match
across his box.
For a second each stared blankly
at the other‘s face, suddenly made.
visible by the lifting of the fog. The
liltlit'il in the, stranger‘s hand burned
down till it scorched his lingers and.
feeling the pain. he laughed and let
it drop.
"(if all odd things!" he said. Then
he broke off. The circumstance was
too novel for ordinary remark.
By one of those. rare occurrences.
those chances that seem too n‘ild for
real life and yet belong to no other
sphere. the two faces no strangely
hidden and Qtrangely revealed were
identical. feature for feature. it
seemed to cach’ man that be 100de
not at the face. of another. but. at his
own face reflected in a flawless look-
ng-ulnss.
()f the two. the stranger was the
first to regain self-possession. Sce-
sn: Chilcote's bewilderment, he came
:o his rescue with brusquc tactful-
m‘ss. ‘
"The position is decidedly odd." he
said. "lint. after all. why should we
be so surprised? Nature can‘t be
eternally original: she must dry up
sometimes. and when she gets a good
model why shouldn‘t she use it
twice?" lie drew back. surveying
Chilcole willmslcally. “But. pardon
i
light!"
Chilcote still held the cigarette be-
tween his lips. The paper had be-
come dry. and he moistened it as he
leaned towards his companion.
i“Don’t mind me." he said. “i’m
rather—rather unstrung to-night. and
this thing gave me a jar. To be
candid. my imagination took head in
the fog, and I got to fancy I was
talking to myself—1'
“And pulled up to find the fancy
in some way real?" .
“Yes. Smuethlng hits that."
Both were silent. for a moment.
Chilcote pulled hard at his cigarette.
then. remembering his obligations.
he turned quickly to the other.
“Won‘t you smoke?” he asked.
The stranger accepted a cigarette
from the case held out to him: I“
as he did so the extraordinary like-
ness to himself struck Chilcota with
added force. Involuntarily he put
out his hand and touched the other'a
arm. -
“It’s my nerves 1" he told. in 21'
planaflon. “They make me want to
feel that you are substantial.
Nerves play such beastly tricks!”
He laughed awkwardly.
The other glanced up. His ex-
pression on the moment was slightly
surprised. slightly contemptuous. but
he changed it instantly to conven-
tionnl interest; “I am afraid I am
not an authority on nerves." he said.
But Chllcote was preeccupled. His
thoughts had turned into another
channel. ' '
“How old are you?” he asked, and-
denly. -'
The other did not answer immo-
dlateiy. "my age?” he said at lash
3‘01"!- “Oh. I believe I shall be
thirty-six tomorrow—to be quite ac-
Chilcote lifted his head quickly. -
“Why do you in that tone?” he
asked. "I am six months older than
you, and I only wish it was at:
years. Six years nearer oblivion“
Again a slight MIMI eon-
tempt M the other; eyes "‘0‘:
avian?" be said. “Where are your
ambition-1" , ' _
m don’t all.“ » who
t exist? Yet ya: mm”
fie M'-
Fcountry‘l I W M?” ii
, ,
a
me. you are still waiting for that‘
(sum laughed sarcastic-31y.
.‘Wben one has voiced one‘s coon-v
try for a: years one get: hoarse-
it‘s a natural consequence.”
The other smiled. "All. dim—
tent 1" be said. “The model-n can-
ker. But we must we be getting
under way. Goodnight! Shall we
shake hands—to prove. that we are
genuinely material?" ‘
Gbllcote had been standing autism
ally still. following the Runner‘s
words—caught by his self-reliance
and impressed by his yummy.-
Now. as he team to week. he
moved quickly forward. handled by
a nervous curiosity.
"Win should we just ball each
other and. pass—lute the proverbial
chitin?" he said. impulsively. “If
Nature was careles- enough to let
the reproduction meet the original.
she must abide the memes."
The other laughed. but his laugh
was abort. “Oh. I don‘t know. Our
roads lie differently. You would get
nothing out of me. and I--" He
stopped and again laughed shortly.
'fNo." he said. “I‘d be content to
pass. if I were you. The unsuccess-
ful man is seldom a profitable-study.
Shall We say goodnight?” ‘
He took Chlicote‘a hand for an in:
slant: then. crossing the toot-path.
he named into the roadway towards
the Strand.
It was done in a moment: but
with his going a sense of loss fell
upon Chilcotc. He stood for a
space. newly conscious of unfamiliar
faces and unfamiliar voices in the
stream of passcrs-by; then. suddenly
mastered by an impulse. he wheeled
rapidly and darted after the tall.
loan figure so ridiculously like his
own. ,
Half-way across Trafalgar Square
he overtook the stranger. He had
paused on one of the small stone
islands that break the current of
tratlic. and was waiting for an op-
portunity to cross the street. In the
glare of light from the lamp above
his head, Chllcote saw for the first
time that. under a remarkable neat-
ncss or appearance. his clothes were
well worn—~allliost shabby. The dis‘
covery struck hint. With something
stronger than surprise. The idea of
poverty seemed incongruous in con—
nection with the reliance. the rc-
sorvl‘. the personality of the man.
With a certain embarrassed haste
arm. .. .
"Look herc.'.',‘he said, the other
turned quietly. "I hat, followed
you to exchange cards. It can‘t in-
jure. either of as. and [—1 have a
wish to know my other self." He
laughed nervOusly as he drew out
his card-case. 1'
The stranger watched him in si-
lence. There was the same faint
contetnpt.’ but also there was a re
lac-taut interest in his glance. as it
passed from the fingers fumbling
with the case to the pale face with
the square jaw. straight'mouth. and
level eyebrows drawn lowovvr the
gray eyes. When at last the card
was held out to him he took it with-
out rcmark and slipped it into his
pocket. ,
Chllcote looked at him eagerly.
“Now the exchange?“ he said.
For a second the stranger did not
respond. Then. almost unexpectedly,
he stepped forward and touched hie
_. » ' 1
CHAPTER II
the morning following the
night of fog Galleon woke at
nine. Be woke at the moment that
his man Allsopp tiptoed am. the
room and laid the solver“ with his
early cup of tea on the table beside
the bell
For several seconds he lay with
his eyes shut: the other of opening
them on a fresh dnymthe intimate
certainty of yvbat he would seem
opening them—Seemed to weight his
lids. The heavy. halt-closed cue-
talas; the blinds severely drawn; the
great room with Its splendid turnt-
ture. its sober coloring. its scent of
damp Inndon winter; above all. All-
soop. silent, respectful. and remem-
ablo—were things to dread.
A full minute pas-ed while he still
feigned sleep. It: beard Allsopp stir
discreetLv then the inevitable info“
matlon broke the silence:
“Nine o‘clock. air!"
He opened his eyes. murmured
something, and closed them again.
The .mun moved to the window.
quietly pulled back the curtains and
half drew the blind.
"Better night. air.
ventured. softly.
Cbilcote had drawn the bedclothes
over his face to screen himself from
the daylight. murky though it was.
_ “Yes."he responded “Those beast-
ly nightmares didn‘t trouble me. for
once." He shivered a little as at
some recollection. “But don‘t talk—
don‘t remind me of them. I hate a
man Who has no originality." He
spoke sharply. At times he showed
an almost childish irritation over
trivial things.
Allsopp took the remark in silence.
Crossing the wide room. he began to
lay out his master‘s clothes. The
action affected Chilcote to fresh ans
noyance. ’
‘(kmfound it i” he said. “I‘m sick
of that routine! I can see you lay-
ing out my winding-sheet the day of
my burial. Leave those things. Come
back in half an hour."
Allsopp allowed himself one glance
at his master‘s figure huddled in the
great bed: then. laying aside the
Coat ho. was holding; he ’tuoved 'to
the door. With his lingers on the
handle he paused.
“Will you breakfast in "your own
room. sir—or down—stairs?"
('hilcote drew the clothes more
tightly round: his shoulders. “Oh.
anywhere—nowhere!" he said. iii!
don‘t care." :7
' Allsupp softly withdrew.
Left to himself. Chilcnlo sat up in
bed and lifted the salver to his
knees. The sudden movement jarred
him physically; he drew a handker-
chief fmm under the pillow and
wiped his forehead; then he held his
hand to the light and studied in
The hand looked sailow and tub
steady. Willi a nervous gecmre'hu’
thrust the salver back upon the la-
hie and slid out of bed. _
l— Movlng hastily armss the rem. he!
stopped before one of; the tail .wsrdm
robes and swan}: the door open;l
then after a furtlve glance around
the room he thrust his hand into the
recesses of a shelf and fumbled
there. The thing he sought was evi-
dently not hard to find. for almost
at once he withdrew his hand and
moved from the wardrobe to a table
beside the fireplace. carrying a
I hope!" he
he smiled.
“After all. if it amuses you—-" he
the pictured story.)
“la; am. searching in his waistcoat
card.
throng of tralllc. -
lifted tacos-m, _
Inn.“
pocket. he drew out the required
“It will lava you quite unenlight—
ened." he added. "the name of a
failure never spells anything.” With
another mile. partly amused. partly
ironicai, he stepped from the little
island and, disappeared; into the
Chilean stood rot- an tnstantgfug
insatthepdntwherobehadvan—
lshed; then turning to the laughs
small glass tube tilled with tabloids.
pace!" [Mm Poet '16:!de ”.mwlhsa’aeenefrpm I
a
0n the table were a Gautier, a
siphon and a watts-jug. Hiatus saline
whiskey. be uncorkcd the tube. again
be, glanced apprehensive»
the door. than within very
kind dropped two (shields
While they dissolved he stood with
in: band on amiable and his eyes
fixed' on the floor, evidently rem in.
, in; ’ lam ,thcy
salad the
into the
““8 “D.
'a‘vold bromides.
When Aim returned he was all-
a cigarette between his
line. the teacnp standing empty on
the salver. The nervous irritability
had gone from his manner. He no
lower moved luckily. his. eyes looked
brighter. his pale skin more healthy.
"AL Allsopp." be said. “there are
sue moments in life after all. It
isn‘t all blank wall."
“I ordered breakfast in the small
morningsroom. sir.“ said Alison),
without a change of expression.
Ghtlcote breakfasted at ten. His
ape-lite. always fickle. was particu-
Lrly uncertain in the early hours.
He helped himself to some fish, but
sent away his plate untouched; than.
having drunk two cups of tea. he
pushed back his chair. lighted a fresh
cigarette and shook out the mora-
ixm‘a newspaper. _
Twice he slmok it out and twice
turned it, but the reluctance to a:
his mind upon it made him daily.
The effect of the morphla tabloids
was still apparent in the greater
steadiness of his hand and eye. the
regained quiet of his susceptibilities.
but the respite was temporary and
lethargic. The early days—the days
of six years ago, when these tabl
loids meant an even sweep of
thought. lucidlty of brain. a balance
of-judgment in thought and afterta-
were days of the past. As he had
said of Lexington and his vice. the
slave had become master. .
As he folded the paper in a last
attempt at interest. the door opened
and his secretary came a step or
two into the room.
"Goodmmming. sir i" he said. "For- ‘
give me for being- so untimely." ,
He was a fresh-mannered. bright-
eypd boy of twenty-three. His breezy ‘
alertness. his deference. as to a man
who had attained what he. aspired to.
umuped and depressed Chiicote by
turtle. p
“Goodmornlnc.Blessincton. What '
a ray of sun that had forced itself
througfifille misty atmosphere as if
by mistake. .
The boy smiled.
ness of the Work timber contract. '
sir.” he, said. "You promised you‘d
look into it to-day; you know you've
sllcll‘ed it for a work already. and
Craig. Humane are rather clamoring
for an grower."
0% the ‘bble beside (‘hilmte.
sorry (5 be such a nuisance." he.
added: "I hope your nerves aren’t
worrying you today?“
Chilcote Was toying with the pn~
pers. At the word nerves he glanced
up suSpiciousiy. llut lliessingtou's
ingenuous face satisfied him.
“No." he said. “I settled my.
nerves last night with—will) n bro-
mide. .l khcw that lot: Would upset
me unless i look precautions."
"i'm glad of that. Sil‘giilflllflil I‘d '
Rad habit to set
lip... But this \Vnrk business—rd
like to act it under way. if you have
no objection.“
Chllcote passed
the papers. “Were you out in that
to: last night. Blcssingion?”
“No. sir. I suppcd with some peo‘
pic at the Savoy, and We Just missed
it. It was very partial, I believe.”
"So I believe:"
Blesslnaton put his hand to his
neat tie and pulled it. He was ex-
tremely polite. but he had an inordi-
nate sense of duty. ‘
“Forgive me. sir." he said. "but
about that contract—I know I‘m it
"Oh. the contract !" Chllcote looked
about him absently. “By-theway.
did you see anything of my wife yes-
terday? What did she do last nightr?" _
"Mrs. Ghllcote gave me tea yester-
day afternoon. She told me she was
dining at Lady Sablnet‘s. and look-
ing in at one or two places’ later.”
lie eyed his papers in Chilcote's “lt-
less hand.“
Chllcote smiled satirically.
is very true to ecclety." he said.
“E n
“I
was to make the premier. They
have a butler who is an institution——
a sort of heirloom in the family. He
is fat, and breathes audibly. Last
time I lunched there he haunted me
tor a whole night.”
Blessington laughed gayly. “Mrs."
, antic-ate doesn‘t see ghosts. sir." he
id: “but if I may suggest—"
. Chllcote tapped his fingers on the
tahlE
“No. Eve doesn’t see ghosts. We;
rather mils sympathy there.”
Bless'inaton governed his impa.
’. .
undo then
pointed boot. a .
"If you will be lenient to my per:
money. sir. I would like to remind
mu ".
Chllcote lifted his
flesh of irritability. ..
“Confdund it. Blessingtou i” be ex-
clalined. “Am I never to be left in,
head with a ‘
meal without having work thrust}.
me? Work—work—perpetualé‘
I: work! I. have heard no othe.:
word in the last six years. 1! do
duly from his seat and turned to
thewindow—J‘there are times when.
I feel that for stapence l‘d chuck it
whoarbenstly round—3':
1 "his formula.
towards
is it now?" He sighed through habit. . .
and. putting up his hand, warded ofl - .
“It's that bush. 5 3
He moved forward '-
zlntl hill-- the papers he, was carrying a
“I‘m 3‘
his fingers over .
frightful bore." . ‘
dance. He stood still for some see; -
‘ glanced down at his .
date there are tlmes"—he mse sodii
.4 ...-
r
"6") -.
v.
“‘
.mirr «n-H'It‘l" v
_._ . --.-.._-- ....
. -..—..--“ ...—..- ...... m-.- -....- ...... -... .. 4
...... . --.... .——-—........ - ....- —.m -..mw_-
couldn‘t dine at the Sabinets’ if it _
5;»
peace? Am I never to sit down to a z
i
“ 2
r
.
a"
n
Norwalk Chronicler