he stairs, sprucely attired for the city, and wearing a flower in the
buttonhole of his overcoat. "I've had to break open the front door in order
to get in at all, and then I tried shooting the bell for your valet. Can I
come up?"

"Do," said Septimus, shivering. "Do you mind if I go back to bed?"

"Do anything, except go to sleep," said Sypher. "Look here. I'm sorry if I
disturbed you, but I couldn't wait. I'm off to the office and heaven knows
when I shall be back. I want to talk to you about this."

He sat on the foot of the bed and threw the proofs of the gun book on to
Septimus's body, vaguely outlined beneath the clothes. In the gray November
light--Zora's carefully chosen curtains and blinds had not been
drawn--Sypher, pink and shiny, his silk hat (which he wore) a resplendent
miracle of valetry, looked an urban yet roseate personification of Dawn. He
seemed as eager as Septimus was supine.

"I've sat up half the night over this thing," said he, "and I really
believe you've got it."

"Got what?" asked Septimus.

"_It_. The biggest thing on earth, bar Sypher's Cure."

"Wait till I've worked out my railway carriages," said Septimus.

"Your railway carriages! Good gracious! Haven't you any sense of what
you're doing? Here you've worked out a scheme that may revolutionize naval
gunnery, and you talk rot about railway carriages."

"I'm glad you like the book," said Septimus.

"Are you going to publish it?"

"Of course."

"Ask your publisher how much he'll take to let you off your bargain."

"I'm publishing it at my own expense," said Septimus, in the middle of a
yawn.

"And presenting it gratis to the governments of the world?"

"Yes. I might send them copies," said Septimus. "It's a good idea."

Clem Sypher thrust his hat to the back of his head, and paced the room
from the wash-stand past the dressing-table to the wardrobe and back again.

"Well, I'm hanged!" said he.

Septimus asked why.

"I thought I was a philanthropist," said Sypher, "but by the side of you
I'm a vulture. Has it not struck you that, if the big gun is what I think,
any government on earth would give you what you like to ask for the
specification?"

"Really? Do you think they would give me a couple of hundred pounds?" asked
Septimus, thinking vaguely of Mordaunt Prince in Naples and his overdrawn
banking account. The anxiety of his expression was not lost on Sypher.

"Are you in need of a couple of hundred pounds?" he aske