, also thinking entirely of itself, was obsessed
with a desire not to see Mr. Abrahams. Mr. Abrahams came to my office,
said nice things about me to my face and begged me to let him go.
I said nice things to him, and told him I would if I could, but I
couldn't. He took this to mean I could if I would, but I wouldn't. He
offered me cash down; a cheque for five pounds sterling, or a note for
a hundred francs; I could have it which way I liked. We should call it
for appearance' sake a gift to His Majesty's Government for the better
prosecution of the War.

I thanked him cordially on behalf of His Majesty's Government, but
regretted that I was the victim of circumstances over which I had no
control. Refusing to believe there could be any circumstances which
could stand up against an officer of my power, position and force, he
produced a note for a hundred francs and put it on my table. He then
withdrew, meaning (I gathered) to return to the attack as soon as the
money had sunk in. From this point on, Mr. Abrahams disappears from
the story. It is not the first or only story, as the police will tell
you, from which Mr. Abrahams has disappeared.

My report to His Majesty's Government did not omit a full mention of
the matter of the five pounds or hundred francs offered. It begged for
instructions as to the disposal of the booty which, it stated, lay in
my "Suspense" basket. No instructions could be got, though frequent
messages, saying, "May we now have an answer, please?" were sent.
Weeks passed, and every morning I was tempted by the sight of that
note for a hundred francs lying in the basket. My _moral_ gradually
declined. So did the rate of exchange. So did the barometer.

There came a day, the weather being such that any man who could sin
would sin, when I had in my pocket a cheque made out for five pounds
which I was about to cash for lack of ready francs, and when the
rate of exchange had got as low as nineteen francs to the pound,
which would mean (I rely entirely on the evidence of the bank man)
ninety-five francs for my five pounds. Charles, I fell. Explaining to
myself that Mr. Abrahams had clearly intimated that his gift to the
Government was alternatively a cheque for five pounds or a note for
a hundred francs, I put my cheque into the "Suspense" basket and
pocketed the note, _thus making five francs profit_.

More weeks passed; no instructions came, and every day I was tempted
by the sight of that cheque. One