very young; he
had just passed his thirtieth birthday, and Melrose soon discovered that
he had seen a good deal both of the natural and the human worlds. He was
the son, it seemed, of an Indian Civil Servant, and had inherited from
his parents, who were both dead, an income--so Melrose shrewdly gathered
from various indications--just sufficient to keep him; whereby a will,
ambitious rather than strong, had been able to have its way. He had
dabbled in many things, journalism, law, politics; had travelled a good
deal; and was now apparently tired of miscellaneous living, and looking
out discontentedly for an opening in life--not of the common sort--that
was somewhat long in presenting itself. He seemed to have a good many
friends and acquaintances, but not any of overmastering importance to
him; his intellectual powers were evidently considerable, but not working
to any great advantage either for himself or society.

Altogether an attractive, handsome, restless fellow; persuaded that he
was destined to high things, hungry for them, yet not seeing how to
achieve them; hungry for money also--probably as the only possible means
of achieving them--and determined, meanwhile, not to accept any second
best he could help. It was so, at least--from the cynical point of view
of an observer who never wasted time on any other--that Melrose read him.

Incidentally he discovered that Faversham was well acquainted with the
general lines and procedure of modern financial speculation, was in fact
better versed in the jargon and gossip of the Stock Exchange than Melrose
himself; and had made use now and then of the large amount of information
and the considerable number of useful acquaintances he possessed to
speculate cautiously on his own account--without much result, but without
disaster. Also it was very soon clear that, independently of his special
reasons for knowing something about engraved gems and their value, he had
been, through his Oxford uncle, much brought across collectors and
collecting. He could, more or less, talk the language of the tribe, and
indeed his mere possession of the famous gems had made him, willy-nilly,
a member of it.

So that, for the first time in twenty years, Melrose found himself
provided with a listener, and a spectator who neither wanted to buy from
him nor sell to him. When a couple of vases and a statuette, captured in
Paris from some remains of the Spitzer sale, arrived at the Tower, it was
to F