atter of fact, there
are no very trustworthy connections of ours. It is a grotesque and
unprecedented position."

"It is," said Isbister. "As a matter of fact, it's a case for a public
trustee, if only we had such a functionary."

"It seems to me it's a case for some public body, some practically
undying guardian. If he really is going on living--as the doctors, some
of them, think. As a matter of fact, I have gone to one or two public
men about it. But, so far, nothing has been done."

"It wouldn't be a bad idea to hand him over to some public body--the
British Museum Trustees, or the Royal College of Physicians. Sounds a
bit odd, of course, but the whole situation is odd."

"The difficulty is to induce them to take him."

"Red tape, I suppose?"

"Partly."

Pause. "It's a curious business, certainly," said Isbister. "And
compound interest has a way of mounting up."

"It has," said Warming. "And now the gold supplies are running short
there is a tendency towards ... appreciation."

"I've felt that," said Isbister with a grimace. "But it makes it better
for him."

"If he wakes."

"If he wakes," echoed Isbister. "Do you notice the pinched-ill look of
his nose, and the way in which his eyelids sink?"

Warming looked and thought for a space. "I doubt if he will wake," he
said at last.

"I never properly understood," said Isbister, "what it was brought this
on. He told me something about overstudy. I've often been curious."

"He was a man of considerable gifts, but spasmodic, emotional. He had
grave domestic troubles, divorced his wife, in fact, and it was as a
relief from that, I think, that he took up politics of the rabid sort.
He was a fanatical Radical--a Socialist--or typical Liberal,
as they used to call themselves, of the advanced school.
Energetic--flighty--undisciplined. Overwork upon a controversy did this
for him. I remember the pamphlet he wrote--a curious production. Wild,
whirling stuff. There were one or two prophecies. Some of them are
already exploded, some of them are established facts. But for the
most part to read such a thesis is to realise how full the world is of
unanticipated things. He will have much to learn, much to unlearn, when
he wakes. If ever a waking comes."

"I'd give anything to be there," said Isbister, "just to hear what he
would say to it all."

"So would I," said Warming. "Aye! so would I," with an old man's sudden
turn to self pity. "But I shall never see him wak