ver
much it gets up against us. Best of all he had a first-class outfit of
brains. I can't say I ever struck a better, and I've come across some
bright citizens in my time ... And now he's going to win out, unless we
get mighty busy.'

There was a knock at the door and the solid figure of Andrew Amos
revealed itself.

'It's time ye was home, Miss Mary. It chappit half-eleven as I came up
the stairs. It's comin' on to rain, so I've brought an umbrelly.'

'One word,' I said. 'How old is the man?'

'Just gone thirty-six,' Blenkiron replied.

I turned to Mary, who nodded. 'Younger than you, Dick,' she said
wickedly as she got into her big Jaeger coat.

'I'm going to see you home,' I said.

'Not allowed. You've had quite enough of my society for one day.
Andrew's on escort duty tonight.'

Blenkiron looked after her as the door closed.

'I reckon you've got the best girl in the world.'

'Ivery thinks the same,' I said grimly, for my detestation of the man
who had made love to Mary fairly choked me.

'You can see why. Here's this degenerate coming out of his rotten
class, all pampered and petted and satiated with the easy pleasures of
life. He has seen nothing of women except the bad kind and the overfed
specimens of his own country. I hate being impolite about females, but
I've always considered the German variety uncommon like cows. He has
had desperate years of intrigue and danger, and consorting with every
kind of scallawag. Remember, he's a big man and a poet, with a brain
and an imagination that takes every grade without changing gears.
Suddenly he meets something that is as fresh and lovely as a spring
flower, and has wits too, and the steeliest courage, and yet is all
youth and gaiety. It's a new experience for him, a kind of revelation,
and he's big enough to value her as she should be valued ... No, Dick,
I can understand you getting cross, but I reckon it an item to the
man's credit.'

'It's his blind spot all the same,' I said.

'His blind spot,' Blenkiron repeated solemnly, 'and, please God, we're
going to remember that.'

* * * * *

Next morning in miserable sloppy weather Blenkiron carted me about
Paris. We climbed five sets of stairs to a flat away up in Montmartre,
where I was talked to by a fat man with spectacles and a slow voice and
told various things that deeply concerned me. Then I went to a room in
the Boulevard St Germain, with a little cabinet op