ain. In the gloom I was
beginning to discern the workings of the tortured apoplectic face. "But,
I say, what's de Mersch's little game?"

"You'd better ask him," I answered. It was incredibly hateful, this
satyr's mask in the dim light.

"He's not in London," it answered, with a wink of the creased eyelids,
"but, I suppose, now, Fox and de Mersch haven't had a row, now, have
they?"

I did not answer. The thing was wearily hateful, and this was only the
beginning. Hundreds more would be asking the same question in a few
minutes.

The head wagged on the mountainous shoulders.

"Looks fishy," he said. I recognised that, to force words from me, he
was threatening a kind of blackmail. Another voice began to call from
the top of the stairs--

"I say, Granger! I say, Granger...."

I pushed the folding-doors apart and went slowly down the gloomy room. I
heard the doors swing again, and footsteps patter on the matting behind
me. I did not turn; the man came round me and looked at my face. It was
Polehampton. There were tears in his eyes.

"I say," he said, "I say, what does it mean; _what_ does it mean?" It
was very difficult for me to look at him. "I tell you...." he began
again. He had the dictatorial air of a very small, quite hopeless man,
a man mystified by a blow of unknown provenance. "I tell you...." he
began again.

"But what has it to do with me?" I said roughly.

"Oh, but _you_ ... you advised me to buy." He had become supplicatory.
"Didn't you, now?... Didn't you.... You said, you remember ... that...."
I didn't answer the man. What had I got to say? He remained looking
intently at me, as if it were of the greatest moment to him that I
should make the acknowledgment and share the blame--as if it would take
an immense load from his shoulders. I couldn't do it; I hated him.

"Didn't you," he began categorically; "didn't you advise me to buy those
debentures of de Mersch's?" I did not answer.

"What does it all mean?" he said again. "If this bill doesn't get
through, I tell you I shall be ruined. And they say that Mr. Gurnard is
going to smash it. They are all saying it, up there; and that you--you
on the _Hour_ ... are ... are responsible." He took out a handkerchief
and began to blow his nose. I didn't say a single word.

"But what's to be done?" he started again; "what's to be _done_.... I
tell you.... My daughter, you know, she's very brave, she said to me
this morning she could work; but she couldn