fore he was aware what he was doing. There was a smile on his face and
a glass in his hand.

"Oh!" said Fearns. "I thought she was. Who is?"

Everybody looked inquisitively at the renowned Machin, the new member.

"I am," said Denry.

He had concealed the change of ownership from the Widow Hullins. In his
quality of owner he could not have lent her money in order that she
might pay it instantly back to himself.

"I beg your pardon," said Fearns, with polite sincerity. "I'd no
idea...!" He saw that unwittingly he had come near to committing a gross
outrage on club etiquette.

"Not at all!" said Denry. "But supposing the cottage was _yours_,
what would _you_ do, Mr Fearns? Before I bought the property I used
to lend her money myself to pay her rent."

"I know," Fearns answered, with a certain dryness of tone.

It occurred to Denry that the lawyer knew too much.

"Well, what should you do?" he repeated obstinately.

"She's an old woman," said Fearns. "And honest enough, you must admit.
She came up to see my governess, and I happened to see her."

"But what should you do in my place?" Denry insisted.

"Since you ask, I should lower the rent and let her off the arrears,"
said Fearns.

"And supposing she didn't pay then? Let her have it rent-free because
she's seventy? Or pitch her into the street?"

"Oh--Well--"

"Fearns would make her a present of the blooming house and give her a
conveyance free!" a voice said humorously, and everybody laughed.

"Well, that's what I'll do," said Denry. "If Mr Fearns will do the
conveyance free, I'll make her a present of the blooming house. That's
the sort of grasping owner I am."

There was a startled pause. "I mean it," said Denry firmly, even
fiercely, and raised his glass. "Here's to the Widow Hullins!"

There was a sensation, because, incredible though the thing was, it had
to be believed. Denry himself was not the least astounded person in the
crowded, smoky room. To him, it had been like somebody else talking, not
himself. But, as always when he did something crucial, spectacular, and
effective, the deed had seemed to be done by a mysterious power within
him, over which he had no control.

This particular deed was quixotic, enormously unusual; a deed assuredly
without precedent in the annals of the Five Towns. And he, Denry, had
done it. The cost was prodigious, ridiculously and dangerously beyond
his means. He could find no rational excuse for the deed. But h