an echo in it; one thought
reverberated endlessly.... At length he drew his chair to the table and
began to write. He addressed an envelope and then slowly re-read what he
had written.

"MY DEAR FLAMEL,"

"Many apologies for not sending you sooner the enclosed check, which
represents the customary percentage on the sale of the Letters."

"Trusting you will excuse the oversight,

"Yours truly,

"STEPHEN GLENNARD."

He let himself out of the darkened house and dropped the letter in the
post-box at the corner.

The next afternoon he was detained late at his office, and as he was
preparing to leave he heard someone asking for him in the outer room. He
seated himself again and Flamel was shown in.

The two men, as Glennard pushed aside an obstructive chair, had a
moment to measure each other; then Flamel advanced, and drawing out his
note-case, laid a slip of paper on the desk.

"My dear fellow, what on earth does this mean?" Glennard recognized his
check.

"That I was remiss, simply. It ought to have gone to you before."

Flamel's tone had been that of unaffected surprise, but at this his
accent changed and he asked, quickly: "On what ground?"

Glennard had moved away from the desk and stood leaning against the
calf-backed volumes of the bookcase. "On the ground that you sold Mrs.
Aubyn's letters for me, and that I find the intermediary in such cases
is entitled to a percentage on the sale."

Flamel paused before answering. "You find, you say. It's a recent
discovery?"

"Obviously, from my not sending the check sooner. You see I'm new to the
business."

"And since when have you discovered that there was any question of
business, as far as I was concerned?"

Glennard flushed and his voice rose slightly. "Are you reproaching me
for not having remembered it sooner?"

Flamel, who had spoken in the rapid repressed tone of a man on the
verge of anger, stared a moment at this and then, in his natural voice,
rejoined, good-humoredly, "Upon my soul, I don't understand you!"

The change of key seemed to disconcert Glennard. "It's simple enough--"
he muttered.

"Simple enough--your offering me money in return for a friendly service?
I don't know what your other friends expect!"

"Some of my friends wouldn't have undertaken the job. Those who would
have done so would probably have expected to be paid."

He lifted his eyes to Flamel and the two men looked at each other.
Flamel had turned white and his