were somehow more dashing than Denry
--and it was a question of dash; few things are more mysterious than
dash. Denry was unique, knew himself to be unique; he had danced with a
countess, and yet... these other fellows!... Yes, there are puzzles,
baffling puzzles, in the social career.

In going over on Tuesdays to Hanbridge, where he had a few trifling
rents to collect, Denry often encountered Harold Etches in the tramcar.
At that time Etches lived at Hillport, and the principal Etches
manufactory was at Hanbridge. Etches partook of the riches of his
family, and, though a bachelor, was reputed to have the spending of at
least a thousand a year. He was famous, on summer Sundays, on the pier
at Llandudno, in white flannels. He had been one of the originators of
the Sports Club. He spent far more on clothes alone than Denry spent in
the entire enterprise of keeping his soul in his body. At their first
meeting little was said. They were not equals, and nothing but
dress-suits could make them equals. However, even a king could not
refuse speech with a scullion whom he had allowed to win money from him.

And Etches and Denry chatted feebly. Bit by bit they chatted less
feebly. And once, when they were almost alone on the car, they chatted
with vehemence during the complete journey of twenty minutes.

"He isn't so bad," said Denry to himself, of the dashing Harold Etches.

And he took a private oath that at his very next encounter with Etches
he would mention the Sports Club--"just to see." This oath disturbed his
sleep for several night. But with Denry an oath was sacred. Having sworn
that he would mention the club to Etches, he was bound to mention it.
When Tuesday came, he hoped that Etches would not be on the tram, and
the coward in him would have walked to Hanbridge instead of taking the
tram. But he was brave. And he boarded the tram, and Etches was already
in it. Now that he looked at it close, the enterprise of suggesting to
Harold Etches that he, Denry, would be a suitable member of the Sports
Club at Hillport, seemed in the highest degree preposterous. Why! He
could not play any games at all! He was a figure only in the streets!
Nevertheless--the oath!

He sat awkwardly silent for a few moments, wondering how to begin. And
then Harold Etches leaned across the tram to him and said:

"I say, Machin, I've several times meant to ask you. Why don't you put
up for the Sports Club? It's really very good, you know."