ight at the back will take you into the outer hall; the door on
the left leads to the servants' quarters; the door on the right in front
will disclose other inhabited rooms to you. An oak gallery runs round
two sides of the hall and descends in broad and gentle stairs down the
right side of it. Four stairs from the bottom it turns round at right
angles and deposits you fairly in the hall. Entering in this way, you
will see immediately opposite to you the large open fireplace occupied
by a pile of unlit logs--for it is summer. There is a chair on each side
of the fireplace, but turned now away from it. In the left centre of the
hall there is a gate-legged table to which trays with drinks on them,
have a habit of finding their way; it is supported on each side by a
coffin-stool. A sofa, which will take two strangers comfortably and
three friends less comfortably, comes out at right angles to the
staircase, but leaves plenty of space between itself and the stool on
its side of the table. Beneath the window on the left of the French
windows is a small table on which letters and papers are put; beneath
the window on the other side is a writing-table. The walls are decorated
impartially with heads of wild animals and of Farringdons.]

[At the present moment the inhabitants of the hall are three. HENRY
WENTWORTH, a barrister between forty, and fifty, dressed in rather a
serious tweed suit, for a summer day, is on the sofa. THOMAS TODD,
an immaculate young gentleman of twenty-five, is half-sitting on the
gate-legged table with one foot on the ground and the other swinging. He
is dressed in a brown flannel coat and white trousers, shoes and socks,
and he has a putter in his hand indicative of his usual line of thought.
The third occupant is the Butler, who, in answer to TOMMY'S ring, has
appeared with the drinks.]

[The time is about four o'clock on a June afternoon.]

TOMMY (to the Butler). Thanks, James; just leave it here. [Exit Butler.]
Whisky or lemonade, Wentworth?

WENTWORTH. Neither, thanks, Tommy.

TOMMY. Well, I will. (He pours himself out some lemonade and takes a
long drink.) I should have thought you would have been thirsty, driving
down from London a day like this. (He finishes his drink.) Let's see,
where was I up to? The sixth, wasn't it?

WENTWORTH. The sixth, Tommy. (With resignation) Only twelve more.

TOMMY. Yes, that's right. Well, at the seventh I got an absolutely
topping drive, but my approach was