for a month.
After one of these flashes he would relapse into pleasant gardens where
he grew roses, or pleasant galleries where he looked with eyes of
understanding into the heart of pictures. Sometimes he amused himself
by playing with urchins in St. James's Park and on one occasion had
been seen to divest himself of his coat to supply the wickets for an
informal cricket match. When asked why he bothered to take part in the
rack and strain of high finance he gave the amiable reply:

"Because it's such fun."

The servant piloted him to a high elbow chair and helped him to be
seated.

"Thank ye," said Mr. Torrington. "And if you'll put a side table
alongside I'll try a new patience. No, don't bother to tell me your
master won't be long, I know that bit by heart."

He unwound a silk comforter from his neck, hung it over the arm of the
chair and produced from his pocket a small pack of cards.

"Cold, Cassis?"

"I was cold," replied Cassis exactly.

"Hm! Fine growing weather, this."

He began to lay out the cards in neat little packs.

"Bulbs are coming through nicely. I was hoping to spend a day or two
in the garden but I'm afraid not--'fraid it won't be possible."

Cassis put his hands behind his back.

"This business," he said.

"Yes."

Lord Almont Frayne, a rather resplendant young man of thirty, came into
the room with all the bounce of youth. His chin shone from a ten
minutes' old shave, his hair clove to his head like fresh laid paint
and the crease in his trousers was razor edged.

"Most awfully sorry, dear hearts," he exclaimed in clamourous apology.
"Deuce of a late night at Thingumy's ball. Do excuse."

From which the reader may assume that his lordship was a bit of an
ass--but no. Under the ecstatic exterior of twentieth century modern
man-about-townism there existed in the composition of Lord Almont many
of the shrewd qualities that had made his father one of the richest
bankers in England. People in the know would assure you it was not
only luck that had kept the parental millions secure and had even
increased them after the old gentleman's decease. Lord Almont had a
sense of the market and his intelligence was not entirely devoted to
matters sartorial.

"Anybody have anything? No. Too early? Infernally hot in here. Mind
if we have a window up?"

Cassis was only just in time to lodge an objection.

Lord Almont pointed to the street.

"Here comes old Cranbourne bobbing a