n
compensated for in advance by the pleasures of hope. And had they
not between them pocketed seventy-five pounds which they had stood to
lose?

Such reasoning was unanswerable, and his remorse did not attempt to
answer it. His remorse was not open to reason; it was one of those
stupid, primitive sentiments which obstinately persist in the refined
and rational fabric of modern humanity.

He was just sorry for Rose Euclid.

"Do you know what I did?" he burst out confidentially, and confessed
the whole telephone-trick to Mr. Seven Sachs.

Mr. Seven Sachs, somewhat to Edward Henry's surprise, expressed high
admiration of the device.

"A bit mean, though, don't you think?" Edward Henry protested weakly.

"Not at all!" cried Mr. Sachs. "You got the goods on her. And she
deserved it."

(Again this enigmatic and mystical word "goods"! But he understood
it.)

Thus encouraged, he was now quite determined to give Mr. Seven Sachs
a brief episodic account of his career. A fair conversational opening
was all he wanted in order to begin.

"I wonder what will happen to her--ultimately?" he said, meaning to
work back from the ends of careers to their beginnings, and so to
himself.

"Rose Euclid?"

"Yes."

Mr. Sachs shook his head compassionately.

"How did Mr. Bryany get in with her?" asked Edward Henry.

"Bryany is a highly peculiar person," said Mr. Seven Sachs,
familiarly. "He's all right so long as you don't unstrap him. He was
born to convince newspaper reporters of his own greatness."

"I had a bit of a talk with him myself," said Edward Henry.

"Oh, yes! He told me all about you."

"But _I_ never told him anything about myself," said Edward Henry,
quickly.

"No, but he has eyes, you know, and ears too. Seems to me the people
of the Five Towns do little else of a night but discuss you, Mr.
Machin. _I_ heard a good bit when _I_ was down there, though I don't
go about much when I'm on the road. I reckon I could write a whole
biography of you."

Edward Henry smiled self-consciously. He was, of course, enraptured,
but at the same time it was disappointing to find Mr. Sachs already
so fully informed as to the details of his career. However, he did not
intend to let that prevent him from telling the story afresh, in his
own manner.

"I suppose you've had your adventures, too," he remarked with
nonchalance, partly from politeness but mainly in order to avoid the
appearance of hurry in his egotism.

IV