ys in parables," Arnold protested. "How am I to
understand what you mean?"

"You have reason, my young friend," Sabatini admitted calmly. "Ask
your questions."

"First of all, then, you know where Mr. Weatherley is!"

Sabatini made a wry face.

"Let us leave this respectable Weatherley out of the case for a
moment," he said. "To tell you the truth, I am weary of him. I would
speak of ourselves--of my sister and myself and those others. You
cannot deny that however wicked you may think us we are at least
interesting."

"Have you come here to make fun of me?" Arnold asked quietly.

"Not in the least," Sabatini assured him. "On the contrary, I have
come to make friends. My sister is penitent. We have decided to
take your discretion for granted. I am here to explain. You want to
understand all these things which seem to you so mysterious. Well,
ask your questions. What is it that you wish to know?"

"Nothing," Arnold replied. "I have come to the conclusion that
I was wrong to speak to your sister as I did. I have a great
responsibility here which will occupy all my thoughts. I am going to
devote myself to work. The other things do not interest me any
longer."

Sabatini smiled.

"My young friend," he murmured, "you may say that to yourself, but
it is not true. It is not life for you to buy these articles of food
at one price and sell them for another; to hold the profit in your
hand and smile. That is what life means in Tooley Street. You could
do it for a little time, perhaps, but not for very long."

"It may seem absurd to you," Arnold protested, "but it's my duty for
the present, anyhow, and I am going to do it. I shall have to work
ten hours a day and I shall have no time for dreams. I am going to
stay in the atmosphere I have to live in."

Sabatini shook his head.

"You must have relaxation."

"I can find it," Arnold replied. "I can find it without going so far
afield."

Sabatini was silent for a moment. He was a man of few expressions,
but he seemed a little disappointed.

"Will you do your duty any the less zealously, do you think," he
asked, "because you have friends who take an interest in you?"

Arnold was suddenly conscious of the ungraciousness of his
attitude.

"You don't understand!" he exclaimed, a little desperately. "Your
world wasn't made for me. I haven't any place in it. My work is
here. I can't allow myself always to be distracted. Your sister is
the most wonderful person I ever