I
really never want to kill anything--except sometimes, perhaps,--a dealer.
My amusements"--he pointed to two large cases at the end of the
room--"are pursued indoors."

"You will arrange your collections?"

"Perhaps, yes--perhaps, no. When I want something to do, I may begin
unpacking. But I shall be in no hurry. Any way it would take me months."

"Is it mostly furniture you have sent home, sir?"

"Oh, Lord, no! Clocks, watches, ironwork, china, stuffs,
brasses--something of everything. A few pictures--no great shakes--as
yet. But some day I may begin to buy them in earnest. Meanwhile,
Tyson--_economy_!"--he lifted a monitory finger. "All my income is
required--let me inform you at once--for what is my hobby--my passion--my
mania, if you like--the collecting of works of art. I have gradually
reduced my personal expenditures to a minimum, and it must be the same
with this estate. No useless outlay of any kind. Every sixpence will be
important to me."

"Some of the cottages are in a very bad state, Mr. Melrose."

"Paradises, I'll be bound, compared to some of the places I have been
living among, in Italy. Don't encourage people to complain; that's the
great point. Encourage them, my dear sir, to make the best of things--to
take life _cheerfully_."

Certain cottages on the estate presented themselves to the agent's mind.
He lifted his eyebrows imperceptibly, and let the subject drop, inquiring
instead whether his employer meant to reside at the Tower during the
whole or the greater part of the year.

Melrose smiled. "I shall always spend the winter
here--arranging--cataloguing--writing." Again the cigarette, held in very
long, thin fingers, described a wide semicircle in the dim light, as
though to indicate the largeness of the speaker's thoughts. "But in March
or April, I take flight from here--I return to the chase. To use a
hunting metaphor, in the summer I kill--and store. In the winter I
consume--ruminate--chew the cud. Do you follow my metaphor?"

"Not precisely," said Tyson, looking at him with a quiet antagonism. "I
suppose you mean you buy things and send them home?"

Melrose nodded. "Every dealer in Europe knows me by now--and expects
me. They put aside their best things for me. And I prefer to hunt in
summer--even in the hot countries. Heat has no terror, for me; and
there are fewer of your damned English and American tourists about."

"I see." Tyson hesitated a moment, then said: "And I suppose, s