ke up the point. "I say, you never told me."

"I'm telling you now," Sabre said. And he laughed ruefully. "It comes to
much the same thing--as it turns out."

"Yes, but still.... I wish we worked in a bit more together, Sabre. I'm
always ready to, you know. Let's, shall we?"

Sabre made no reply. Twyning repeated "Let's" and nodded and left the
room. Immediately he opened the door again and reappeared. "I say, you
won't say anything to Jonah, of course?"

Sabre smiled grimly. "I'm going to."

Again the darkening. "Dash it, that's not quite playing the game, is
it?"

"Rot, Twyning. Fortune's made me a promise, and I'm going to ask if he
has any reason for withdrawing it, that's all. It's nothing to do with
your show."

"You're bound to tell him I've told you."

"Well, man alive, I'm bound to know, aren't I?"

"Yes--in a way. Oh, well, all right. Remember about working in more
together." He withdrew and closed the door.

Outside the door he clenched his hands. He thought, "Smack in the eye
for you, was it? You'll get a damn sight worse smack in the eye one of
these days. Dirty dog!"

IV

Immediately the door was closed Sabre went what he would have called
"plug in" to Mr. Fortune; that is to say, without hesitation and without
reflection. He went in by the communicating door, first giving a single
tap but without waiting for a reply to the tap. Mr. Fortune, presenting
a whale-like flank, was at his table going through invoices and making
notes in a small black book which he carried always in a tail pocket of
his jacket.

"Can I speak to you a minute, Mr. Fortune?"

Mr. Fortune entered a note in the small black book: "Twenty-eight,
sixteen, four." He placed a broad elastic band round the book and with
the dexterity of practice passed the book round his bulk and into the
tail pocket. He flicked his hands away and extended them for an instant,
palms upward, much as a conjurer might to show there was nothing in
them. "Certainly you may speak to me, Sabre." He performed his neat
revolving trick. "As a matter of fact, I rather wanted to speak to you."
He pointed across the whale-like front to the massive leathern armchair
beside his desk.

The seat of the armchair marked in a vast hollow the cumulative
ponderosity of the pillars of Church and School who were wont to sit in
it. Sabre seated himself on the arm. "Was it about this partnership
business?"

Mr. Fortune had already frowned to see Sabre upon the