ical discovery which startled
him! He wanted to destroy Redcliffe Gardens, and to design it afresh and
rebuild it under the inspiration of St. Mark's and of the principles of
hygiene as taught for the Final Examination. He had grandiose ideas for
a new design. As for Redcliffe Square, he could do marvels with its
spaces.

He arrived too soon at Earl's Court Station, having forgotten that the
Underground Railway had a treaty with the Church of England and all the
Nonconformist churches not to run trains while the city, represented by
possibly two per cent of its numbers, was at divine worship. He walked
to and fro along the platforms in the vast echoing cavern peopled with
wandering lost souls, and at last a train came in from the void, and it
had the air of a miracle, because nobody had believed that any train
ever would come in. And at last the Turnham Green train came in, and
George got into a smoking compartment, and Mr. Enwright was in the
compartment.

Mr. Enwright also was going to the Orgreave luncheon. He was in what the
office called 'one of his moods.' The other occupants of the compartment
had a stiff and self-conscious air: some apparently were proud of being
abroad on Sunday morning; some apparently were ashamed. Mr. Enwright's
demeanour was as free and natural as that of a child. His lined and
drawn face showed worry and self-absorption in the frankest manner. He
began at once to explain how badly he had slept; indeed he asserted that
he had not slept at all; and he complained with extreme acerbity of the
renewal of his catarrh. 'Constant secretion. Constant secretion,' was
the phrase he used to describe the chief symptom. Then by a forced
transition he turned to the profession of architecture, and restated his
celebrated theory that it was the Cinderella of professions. The firm
had quite recently obtained a very important job in a manufacturing
quarter of London, without having to compete for it; but Mr. Enwright's
great leading ideas never fluctuated with the fluctuation of facts. If
the multiplicity of his lucrative jobs had been such as to compel him to
run round from one to another on a piebald pony in the style of Sir Hugh
Corver, his view of the profession would not have altered. He spoke with
terrible sarcasm apropos of a rumour current in architectural circles
that a provincial city intended soon to invite competitive designs for a
building of realty enormous proportions, and took oath that in n