re only
degrading, that one would sink--oh, hang it all, Mr. Waddington, what a
mess it all is!"

Mr. Waddington pulled down his desk.

"We must go through with it, Burton," he said firmly. "You're more
advanced than I am in this thing, I can see. You'll need your bean
quickly. I believe I can hold off till after the sale. But--I've a
curious sort of temptation at the present moment, Burton. Shall I tell
you what it is?"

"Go ahead," Burton answered gloomily.

Mr. Waddington slapped his trousers pocket.

"Before we do another thing," he suggested, "let's go round to the
Golden Lion and have just one bottle of beer--just to feel what it's
like, eh?"

Burton sprang up.

"By Jove, let's!" he exclaimed. "I've had no breakfast. I'm ravenous.
Do they still have that cheese and crusty loaf there?"

Mr. Waddington glanced at the clock.

"It's on by now," he declared. "Come along."

They went out together and trod eagerly yet a trifle sheepishly the very
well-known way that led to the Golden Lion. The yellow-haired young
lady behind the bar welcomed them with a little cry of astonishment.
She tossed her head. Her manner was familiar but was intended to convey
some sense of resentment.

"To think of seeing you two again!" she exclaimed. "You, Mr.
Waddington, of all gentlemen in the world! Well, I declare!" she went
on, holding out her hand across the counter, after having given it a
preliminary wipe with a small duster. "Talk about a deserter! Where
have you been to every morning, I should like to know?"

"Not anywhere else, my dear," Mr. Waddington asserted, hastily, "that I
can assure you. Seem to have lost my taste for beer, or taking anything
in the morning lately. Matter of digestion, I suppose. Must obey our
doctors, eh? We'll have a tankard each, please. That's right, isn't
it, Burton?"

Burton, whose mouth was already full of bread and cheese, nodded. The
two men sat down in a little enclosed partition. The yellow-haired
young lady leaned across the counter with the air of one willing for
conversation.

"Such queer things as I've heard about you, Mr. Waddington," she began.
"My! the way people have been talking!"

"That so?" Mr. Waddington muttered. "Wish they'd mind their own
business."

"That's too much to expect from folks nowadays," the young lady
continued. "Why, there were some saying as you'd come into a fortune
and spent all your time in the west-end, some that you'd turned
religious, and o