commented Vane
judicially.

"The assumption is perfectly correct. Is not the leading lady worthy of
her hire?" She leaned back in her cushions and looked up at Vane through
half-closed eyes. "In the fulness of time," she went on dreamily, "it
came to pass that the man possessed of great wealth began to sit up and
take notice. 'Behold,' he said to himself, 'I have all that my heart
desireth, saving only one thing. My material possessions grow and
increase daily, and, as long as people who ought to know better continue
to kill each other, even so long will they continue growing.' I don't
think I mentioned, did I, that there was a perfectly 'orrible war on
round the corner during the period under consideration?"

"These little details--though trifling--should not be omitted," remarked
Vane severely. "It is the duty of all story tellers to get their
atmosphere correct. . . ." He sat down facing her and started to refill
his pipe. . . . "What was this one thing he lacked?"

"Don't interrupt. It is the duty of all listeners to control their
impatience. Only the uninitiated skip."

"I abase myself," murmured Vane. "Proceed, I pray you."

"So the man of great wealth during the rare intervals which he could
snatch from amassing more--continued to commune with himself. 'I will
look around,' he said to himself, 'and select me a damsel from amongst
the daughters of the people. Peradventure, she may be rich--peradventure
she may be poor; but since I have enough of the necessary wherewithal to
support the entire beauty chorus which appears nightly in the building
down the road known as the House of Gaiety--the question of her means is
immaterial. Only one thing do I insist upon, that she be passing fair to
look upon. Otherwise--nix doing for this child. . . .'"

Joan stirred restlessly, and her fingers drummed idly on the side of the
boat. And Vane--because he was a man, and because the girl so close to
him was more than passing lovely--said things under his breath. The
parable was rather too plain.

"And behold one night," went on Joan after a while, "this man of great
wealth partook of his dried rusk and Vichy water--his digestion was not
all it might be--at the house of one of the nobility of his tribe. The
giver of the feast had permitted his name to be used on the prospectus of
some scheme organised by the man of wealth--thereby inspiring confidence
in all who read, and incidentally pouching some of the