hadnever
seen
before
.
I
had
.
I
remember
,
a
letter
from
Marion
in
my
pocket
.
I
had
even
made
some
tentatives
for
return
,
for
a
reconciliation
;
Heaven
knows
now
how
I
had
put
it
!
but
her
cold
,
ill-written
letter
repelled
me
.
I
perceived
I
could
never
face
that
old
inconclusive
dullness
of
life
again
,
that
stagnant
disappointment
.
That
,
anyhow
,
was
n't
possible
.
But
what
was
possible
?
I
could
see
no
way
of
honour
or
fine
living
before
me
at
all
.
"
What
am
I
to
do
with
life
?
"
that
was
the
question
that
besieged
me
.
I
wondered
if
all
the
world
was
even
as
I
,
urged
to
this
by
one
motive
and
to
that
by
another
,
creatures
of
chance
and
impulse
and
unmeaning
traditions
.
Had
I
indeed
to
abide
by
what
I
had
said
and
done
and
chosen
?
Was
there
nothing
for
me
in
honour
but
to
provide
for
Effie
,
go
back
penitent
to
Marion
and
keep
to
my
trade
in
rubbish-or
find
some
fresh
one-and
so
work
out
the
residue
of
my
days
?
I
did
n't
accept
that
for
a
moment
.
But
what
else
was
I
to
do
?
I
wondered
if
my
case
was
the
case
of
many
men
,
whether
in
former
ages
,
too
,
men
had
been
so
guideless
,
so
uncharted
,
so
haphazard
in
their
journey
into
life
.
In
the
Middle
Ages
,
in
the
old
Catholic
days
,
one
went
to
a
priest
,
and
he
said
with
all
the
finality
of
natural
law
,
this
you
are
and
this
you
must
do
.
I
wondered
whether
even
in
the
Middle
Ages
I
should
have
accepted
that
ruling
without
question
.
I
remember
too
very
distinctly
how
Effie
came
and
sat
beside
me
on
a
little
box
:
that
was
before
the
casement
window
of
our
room
.
"
Gloomkins
,
"
said
she
.
I
smiled
and
remained
head
on
hand
,
looking
out
of
the
window
forgetful
of
her
.
"
Did
you
love
your
wife
so
well
?
"
she
whispered
softly
.
"
Oh
!
"
I
cried
,
recalled
again
;
"
I
do
n't
know
.
I
do
n't
understand
these
things
.
Life
is
a
thing
that
hurts
,
my
dear
!
It
hurts
without
logic
or
reason
.
I
've
blundered
!
I
did
n't
understand
.
Anyhow-there
is
no
need
to
go
hurting
you
,
is
there
?
"
And
I
turned
about
and
drew
her
to
me
,
and
kissed
her
ear
...
.
Yes
,
I
had
a
very
bad
time-I
still
recall
.
I
suffered
,
I
suppose
,
from
a
sort
of
ennui
of
the
imagination
.
I
found
myself
without
an
object
to
hold
my
will
together
.
I
sought
.
I
read
restlessly
and
discursively
.
I
tried
Ewart
and
got
no
help
from
him
.
As
I
regard
it
all
now
in
this
retrospect
,
it
seems
to
me
as
if
in
those
days
of
disgust
and
abandoned
aims
I
discovered
myself
for
the
first
time
.
Before
that
I
had
seen
only
the
world
and
things
in
it
,
had
sought
them
self-forgetful
of
all
but
my
impulse
.
Now
I
found
myself
GROUPED
with
a
system
of
appetites
and
satisfactions
,
with
much
work
to
do-and
no
desire
,
it
seemed
,
left
in
me
.
There
were
moments
when
I
thought
of
suicide
.
At
times
my
life
appeared
before
me
in
bleak
,
relentless
light
,
a
series
of
ignorances
,
crude
blunderings
,
degradation
and
cruelty
.
I
had
what
the
old
theologians
call
a
"
conviction
of
sin
.
"
I
sought
salvation-not
perhaps
in
the
formula
a
Methodist
preacher
would
recognise
but
salvation
nevertheless
.
Men
find
their
salvation
nowadays
in
many
ways
.
Names
and
forms
do
n't
,
I
think
,
matter
very
much
;
the
real
need
is
something
that
we
can
hold
and
that
holds
one
.
I
have
known
a
man
find
that
determining
factor
in
a
dry-plate
factory
,
and
another
in
writing
a
history
of
the
Manor
.
So
long
as
it
holds
one
,
it
does
not
matter
.
Many
men
and
women
nowadays
take
up
some
concrete
aspect
of
Socialism
or
social
reform
.
But
Socialism
for
me
has
always
been
a
little
bit
too
human
,
too
set
about
with
personalities
and
foolishness
.
It
is
n't
my
line
.
I
do
n't
like
things
so
human
.
I
do
n't
think
I
'm
blind
to
the
fun
,
the
surprises
,
the
jolly
little
coarsenesses
and
insufficiency
of
life
,
to
the
"
humour
of
it
,
"
as
people
say
,
and
to
adventure
,
but
that
is
n't
the
root
of
the
matter
with
me
.
There
's
no
humour
in
my
blood
.
I
'm
in
earnest
in
warp
and
woof
.
I
stumble
and
flounder
,
but
I
know
that
over
all
these
merry
immediate
things
,
there
are
other
things
that
are
great
and
serene
,
very
high
,
beautiful
things-the
reality
.
I
have
n't
got
it
,
but
it
's
there
nevertheless
.
I
'm
a
spiritual
guttersnipe
in
love
with
unimaginable
goddesses
.
I
've
never
seen
the
goddesses
nor
ever
shall-but
it
takes
all
the
fun
out
of
the
mud-and
at
times
I
fear
it
takes
all
the
kindliness
,
too
.
But
I
'm
talking
of
things
I
ca
n't
expect
the
reader
to
understand
,
because
I
do
n't
half
understand
them
myself
.
There
is
something
links
things
for
me
,
a
sunset
or
so
,
a
mood
or
so
,
the
high
air
,
something
there
was
in
Marion
's
form
and
colour
,
something
I
find
and
lose
in
Mantegna
's
pictures
,
something
in
the
lines
of
these
boats
I
make
.
(
You
should
see
X2
,
my
last
and
best
!
)
I
ca
n't
explain
myself
,
I
perceive
.
Perhaps
it
all
comes
to
this
,
that
I
am
a
hard
and
morally
limited
cad
with
a
mind
beyond
my
merits
.
Naturally
I
resist
that
as
a
complete
solution
.
Anyhow
,
I
had
a
sense
of
inexorable
need
,
of
distress
and
insufficiency
that
was
unendurable
,
and
for
a
time
this
aeronautical
engineering
allayed
it
...
.
In
the
end
of
this
particular
crisis
of
which
I
tell
so
badly
,
I
idealised
Science
.
I
decided
that
in
power
and
knowledge
lay
the
salvation
of
my
life
,
the
secret
that
would
fill
my
need
;
that
to
these
things
I
would
give
myself
.
I
emerged
at
last
like
a
man
who
has
been
diving
in
darkness
,
clutching
at
a
new
resolve
for
which
he
had
groped
desperately
and
long
.
I
came
into
the
inner
office
suddenly
one
day-it
must
have
been
just
before
the
time
of
Marion
's
suit
for
restitution-and
sat
down
before
my
uncle
.
"
Look
here
,
"
I
said
,
"
I
'm
sick
of
this
.
"
"
HulLO
!
"
he
answered
,
and
put
some
papers
aside
.
"
What
's
up
,
George
?
"
"
Things
are
wrong
.
"
"
As
how
?
"
"
My
life
,
"
I
said
,
"
it
's
a
mess
,
an
infinite
mess
.
"
"
She
's
been
a
stupid
girl
,
George
,
"
he
said
;
"
I
partly
understand
.
But
you
're
quit
of
her
now
,
practically
,
and
there
's
just
as
good
fish
in
the
sea-
"
"
Oh
!
it
's
not
that
!
"
I
cried
.
"
That
's
only
the
part
that
shows
.
I
'm
sick-I
'm
sick
of
all
this
damned
rascality
.
"
"
Eh
?
Eh
?
"
said
my
uncle
.
"
WHAT-rascality
?
"
"
Oh
,
YOU
know
.
I
want
some
STUFF
,
man
.
I
want
something
to
hold
on
to
.
I
shall
go
amok
if
I
do
n't
get
it
.
I
'm
a
different
sort
of
beast
from
you
.
You
float
in
all
this
bunkum
.
I
feel
like
a
man
floundering
in
a
universe
of
soapsuds
,
up
and
downs
,
east
and
west
.
I
ca
n't
stand
it
.
I
must
get
my
foot
on
something
solid
or-I
do
n't
know
what
.
"
I
laughed
at
the
consternation
in
his
face
.
"
I
mean
it
,
"
I
said
.
"
I
've
been
thinking
it
over
.
I
've
made
up
my
mind
.
It
's
no
good
arguing
.
I
shall
go
in
for
work-real
work
.
No
!
this
is
n't
work
;
it
's
only
laborious
cheating
.
But
I
've
got
an
idea
!
It
's
an
old
idea-I
thought
of
years
ago
,
but
it
came
back
to
me
.
Look
here
!
Why
should
I
fence
about
with
you
?
I
believe
the
time
has
come
for
flying
to
be
possible
.
Real
flying
!
"
"
Flying
!
"
I
stuck
to
that
,
and
it
helped
me
through
the
worst
time
in
my
life
.
My
uncle
,
after
some
half-hearted
resistance
and
a
talk
with
my
aunt
,
behaved
like
the
father
of
a
spoilt
son
.
He
fixed
up
an
arrangement
that
gave
me
capital
to
play
with
,
released
me
from
too
constant
a
solicitude
for
the
newer
business
developments-this
was
in
what
I
may
call
the
later
Moggs
period
of
our
enterprises-and
I
went
to
work
at
once
with
grim
intensity
.
But
I
will
tell
of
my
soaring
and
flying
machines
in
the
proper
place
.
I
've
been
leaving
the
story
of
my
uncle
altogether
too
long
.
I
wanted
merely
to
tell
how
it
was
I
took
to
this
work
.
I
took
to
these
experiments
after
I
had
sought
something
that
Marion
in
some
indefinable
way
had
seemed
to
promise
.
I
toiled
and
forgot
myself
for
a
time
,
and
did
many
things
.
Science
too
has
been
something
of
an
irresponsive
mistress
since
,
though
I
've
served
her
better
than
I
served
Marion
.
But
at
the
time
Science
,
with
her
order
,
her
inhuman
distance
,
yet
steely
certainties
,
saved
me
from
despair
.
Well
,
I
have
still
to
fly
;
but
incidentally
I
have
invented
the
lightest
engines
in
the
world
.
I
am
trying
to
tell
of
all
the
things
that
happened
to
me
.
It
's
hard
enough
simply
to
get
it
put
down
in
the
remotest
degree
right
.
But
this
is
a
novel
,
not
a
treatise
.
Do
n't
imagine
that
I
am
coming
presently
to
any
sort
of
solution
of
my
difficulties
.
Here
among
my
drawings
and
hammerings
NOW
,
I
still
question
unanswering
problems
.
All
my
life
has
been
at
bottom
,
SEEKING
,
disbelieving
always
,
dissatisfied
always
with
the
thing
seen
and
the
thing
believed
,
seeking
something
in
toil
,
in
force
,
in
danger
,
something
whose
name
and
nature
I
do
not
clearly
understand
,
something
beautiful
,
worshipful
,
enduring
,
mine
profoundly
and
fundamentally
,
and
the
utter
redemption
of
myself
;
I
do
n't
know-all
I
can
tell
is
that
it
is
something
I
have
ever
failed
to
find
.
But
before
I
finish
this
chapter
and
book
altogether
and
go
on
with
the
great
adventure
of
my
uncle
's
career
.
I
may
perhaps
tell
what
else
remains
to
tell
of
Marion
and
Effie
,
and
then
for
a
time
set
my
private
life
behind
me
.
For
a
time
Marion
and
I
corresponded
with
some
regularity
,
writing
friendly
but
rather
uninforming
letters
about
small
business
things
.
The
clumsy
process
of
divorce
completed
itself
.
She
left
the
house
at
Ealing
and
went
into
the
country
with
her
aunt
and
parents
,
taking
a
small
farm
near
Lewes
in
Sussex
.
She
put
up
glass
,
she
put
in
heat
for
her
father
,
happy
man
!
and
spoke
of
figs
and
peaches
.
The
thing
seemed
to
promise
well
throughout
a
spring
and
summer
,
but
the
Sussex
winter
after
London
was
too
much
for
the
Ramboats
.
They
got
very
muddy
and
dull
;
Mr.
Ramboat
killed
a
cow
by
improper
feeding
,
and
that
disheartened
them
all
.
A
twelvemonth
saw
the
enterprise
in
difficulties
.
I
had
to
help
her
out
of
this
,
and
then
they
returned
to
London
and
she
went
into
partnership
with
Smithie
at
Streatham
,
and
ran
a
business
that
was
intimated
on
the
firm
's
stationery
as
"
Robes
.
"
The
parents
and
aunt
were
stowed
away
in
a
cottage
somewhere
.
After
that
the
letters
became
infrequent
.
But
in
one
I
remember
a
postscript
that
had
a
little
stab
of
our
old
intimacy
:
"
Poor
old
Miggles
is
dead
.
"
Nearly
eight
years
slipped
by
.
I
grew
up
.
I
grew
in
experience
,
in
capacity
,
until
I
was
fully
a
man
,
but
with
many
new
interests
,
living
on
a
larger
scale
in
a
wider
world
than
I
could
have
dreamt
of
in
my
Marion
days
.
Her
letters
become
rare
and
insignificant
.
At
last
came
a
gap
of
silence
that
made
me
curious
.
For
eighteen
months
or
more
I
had
nothing
from
Marion
save
her
quarterly
receipts
through
the
bank
.
Then
I
damned
at
Smithie
,
and
wrote
a
card
to
Marion
.
"
Dear
Marion
,
"
I
said
,
"
how
goes
it
?
"
She
astonished
me
tremendously
by
telling
me
she
had
married
again-
"
a
Mr.
Wachorn
,
a
leading
agent
in
the
paper-pattern
trade
.
"
But
she
still
wrote
on
the
Ponderevo
and
Smith
(
Robes
)
notepaper
,
from
the
Ponderevo
and
Smith
address
.
And
that
,
except
for
a
little
difference
of
opinion
about
the
continuance
of
alimony
which
gave
me
some
passages
of
anger
,
and
the
use
of
my
name
by
the
firm
,
which
also
annoyed
me
,
is
the
end
of
Marion
's
history
for
me
,
and
she
vanishes
out
of
this
story
.
I
do
not
know
where
she
is
or
what
she
is
doing
.
I
do
not
know
whether
she
is
alive
or
dead
.
It
seems
to
me
utterly
grotesque
that
two
people
who
have
stood
so
close
to
one
another
as
she
and
I
should
be
so
separated
,
but
so
it
is
between
us
.
Effie
,
too
,
I
have
parted
from
,
though
I
still
see
her
at
times
.
Between
us
there
was
never
any
intention
of
marriage
nor
intimacy
of
soul
.
She
had
a
sudden
,
fierce
,
hot-blooded
passion
for
me
and
I
for
her
,
but
I
was
not
her
first
lover
nor
her
last
.
She
was
in
another
world
from
Marion
.
She
had
a
queer
,
delightful
nature
;
I
've
no
memory
of
ever
seeing
her
sullen
or
malicious
.
She
was-indeed
she
was
magnificently-eupeptic
.
That
,
I
think
,
was
the
central
secret
of
her
agreeableness
,
and
,
moreover
,
that
she
was
infinitely
kind-hearted
.
I
helped
her
at
last
into
an
opening
she
coveted
,
and
she
amazed
me
by
a
sudden
display
of
business
capacity
.
She
has
now
a
typewriting
bureau
in
Riffle
's
Inn
,
and
she
runs
it
with
a
brisk
vigour
and
considerable
success
,
albeit
a
certain
plumpness
has
overtaken
her
.
And
she
still
loves
her
kind
.
She
married
a
year
or
so
ago
a
boy
half
her
age-a
wretch
of
a
poet
,
a
wretched
poet
,
and
given
to
drugs
,
a
thing
with
lank
fair
hair
always
getting
into
his
blue
eyes
,
and
limp
legs
.
She
did
it
,
she
said
,
because
he
needed
nursing
...
.
But
enough
of
this
disaster
of
my
marriage
and
of
my
early
love
affairs
;
I
have
told
all
that
is
needed
for
my
picture
to
explain
how
I
came
to
take
up
aeroplane
experiments
and
engineering
science
;
let
me
get
back
to
my
essential
story
,
to
Tono-Bungay
and
my
uncle
's
promotions
and
to
the
vision
of
the
world
these
things
have
given
me
.
BOOK
THE
THIRD
THE
GREAT
DAYS
OF
TONO-BUNGAY
CHAPTER
THE
FIRST
THE
HARDINGHAM
HOTEL
,
AND
HOW
WE
BECAME
BIG
PEOPLE
But
now
that
I
resume
the
main
line
of
my
story
it
may
be
well
to
describe
the
personal
appearance
of
my
uncle
as
I
remember
him
during
those
magnificent
years
that
followed
his
passage
from
trade
to
finance
.
The
little
man
plumped
up
very
considerably
during
the
creation
of
the
Tono-Bungay
property
,
but
with
the
increasing
excitements
that
followed
that
first
flotation
came
dyspepsia
and
a
certain
flabbiness
and
falling
away
.
His
abdomen-if
the
reader
will
pardon
my
taking
his
features
in
the
order
of
their
value-had
at
first
a
nice
full
roundness
,
but
afterwards
it
lost
tone
without
,
however
,
losing
size
.
He
always
went
as
though
he
was
proud
of
it
and
would
make
as
much
of
it
as
possible
.
To
the
last
his
movements
remained
quick
and
sudden
,
his
short
firm
legs
,
as
he
walked
,
seemed
to
twinkle
rather
than
display
the
scissors-stride
of
common
humanity
,
and
he
never
seemed
to
have
knees
,
but
instead
,
a
dispersed
flexibility
of
limb
.
There
was
,
I
seem
to
remember
,
a
secular
intensification
of
his
features
;
his
nose
developed
character
,
became
aggressive
,
stuck
out
at
the
world
more
and
more
;
the
obliquity
of
his
mouth
,
I
think
,
increased
.
From
the
face
that
returns
to
my
memory
projects
a
long
cigar
that
is
sometimes
cocked
jauntily
up
from
the
higher
corner
,
that
sometimes
droops
from
the
lower
;
-it
was
as
eloquent
as
a
dog
's
tail
,
and
he
removed
it
only
for
the
more
emphatic
modes
of
speech
.
He
assumed
a
broad
black
ribbon
for
his
glasses
,
and
wore
them
more
and
more
askew
as
time
went
on
.
His
hair
seemed
to
stiffen
with
success
,
but
towards
the
climax
it
thinned
greatly
over
the
crown
,
and
he
brushed
it
hard
back
over
his
ears
where
,
however
,
it
stuck
out
fiercely
.
It
always
stuck
out
fiercely
over
his
forehead
,
up
and
forward
.
He
adopted
an
urban
style
of
dressing
with
the
onset
of
Tono-Bungay
and
rarely
abandoned
it
.
He
preferred
silk
hats
with
ample
rich
brims
,
often
a
trifle
large
for
him
by
modern
ideas
,
and
he
wore
them
at
various
angles
to
his
axis
;
his
taste
in
trouserings
was
towards
fairly
emphatic
stripes
and
his
trouser
cut
was
neat
;
he
liked
his
frock-coat
long
and
full
,
although
that
seemed
to
shorten
him
.
He
displayed
a
number
of
valuable
rings
,
and
I
remember
one
upon
his
left
little
finger
with
a
large
red
stone
bearing
Gnostic
symbols
.
"
Clever
chaps
,
those
Gnostics
,
George
,
"
he
told
me
.
"
Means
a
lot
.
Lucky
!
"
He
never
had
any
but
a
black
mohair
watch-chair
.
In
the
country
he
affected
grey
and
a
large
grey
cloth
top-hat
,
except
when
motoring
;
then
he
would
have
a
brown
deer-stalker
cap
and
a
fur
suit
of
esquimaux
cut
with
a
sort
of
boot-end
to
the
trousers
.
Of
an
evening
he
would
wear
white
waistcoats
and
plain
gold
studs
.
He
hated
diamonds
.
"
Flashy
,
"
he
said
they
were
.
"
Might
as
well
wear-an
income
tax-receipt
.
All
very
well
for
Park
Lane
.
Unsold
stock
.
Not
my
style
.
Sober
financier
,
George
.
"
So
much
for
his
visible
presence
.
For
a
time
it
was
very
familiar
to
the
world
,
for
at
the
crest
of
the
boom
he
allowed
quite
a
number
of
photographs
and
at
least
one
pencil
sketch
to
be
published
in
the
sixpenny
papers
.
His
voice
declined
during
those
years
from
his
early
tenor
to
a
flat
rich
quality
of
sound
that
my
knowledge
of
music
is
inadequate
to
describe
.
His
Zzz-ing
inrush
of
air
became
less
frequent
as
he
ripened
,
but
returned
in
moments
of
excitement
.
Throughout
his
career
,
in
spite
of
his
increasing
and
at
last
astounding
opulence
,
his
more
intimate
habits
remained
as
simple
as
they
had
been
at
Wimblehurst
.
He
would
never
avail
himself
of
the
services
of
a
valet
;
at
the
very
climax
of
his
greatness
his
trousers
were
folded
by
a
housemaid
and
his
shoulders
brushed
as
he
left
his
house
or
hotel
.
He
became
wary
about
breakfast
as
life
advanced
,
and
at
one
time
talked
much
of
Dr.
Haig
and
uric
acid
.
But
for
other
meals
he
remained
reasonably
omnivorous
.
He
was
something
of
a
gastronome
,
and
would
eat
anything
he
particularly
liked
in
an
audible
manner
,
and
perspire
upon
his
forehead
.
He
was
a
studiously
moderate
drinker-except
when
the
spirit
of
some
public
banquet
or
some
great
occasion
caught
him
and
bore
him
beyond
his
wariness-there
he
would
,
as
it
were
,
drink
inadvertently
and
become
flushed
and
talkative-about
everything
but
his
business
projects
.
To
make
the
portrait
complete
one
wants
to
convey
an
effect
of
sudden
,
quick
bursts
of
movement
like
the
jumps
of
a
Chinese-cracker
to
indicate
that
his
pose
whatever
it
is
,
has
been
preceded
and
will
be
followed
by
a
rush
.
If
I
were
painting
him
,
I
should
certainly
give
him
for
a
background
that
distressed
,
uneasy
sky
that
was
popular
in
the
eighteenth
century
,
and
at
a
convenient
distance
a
throbbing
motor-car
,
very
big
and
contemporary
,
a
secretary
hurrying
with
papers
,
and
an
alert
chauffeur
.
Such
was
the
figure
that
created
and
directed
the
great
property
of
Tono-Bungay
,
and
from
the
successful
reconstruction
of
that
company
passed
on
to
a
slow
crescendo
of
magnificent
creations
and
promotions
until
the
whole
world
of
investors
marveled
.
I
have
already
I
think
,
mentioned
how
,
long
before
we
offered
Tono
Bungay
to
the
public
,
we
took
over
the
English
agency
of
certain
American
specialties
.
To
this
was
presently
added
our
exploitation
of
Moggs
'
Domestic
Soap
,
and
so
he
took
up
the
Domestic
Convenience
Campaign
that
,
coupled
with
his
equatorial
rotundity
and
a
certain
resolute
convexity
in
his
bearings
won
my
uncle
his
Napoleonic
title
.
It
illustrates
the
romantic
element
in
modern
commerce
that
my
uncle
met
young
Moggs
at
a
city
dinner-I
think
it
was
the
Bottle-makers
'
Company-when
both
were
some
way
advanced
beyond
the
initial
sobriety
of
the
occasion
.
This
was
the
grandson
of
the
original
Moggs
,
and
a
very
typical
instance
of
an
educated
,
cultivated
,
degenerate
plutocrat
.
His
people
had
taken
him
about
in
his
youth
as
the
Ruskins
took
their
John
and
fostered
a
passion
for
history
in
him
,
and
the
actual
management
of
the
Moggs
'
industry
had
devolved
upon
a
cousin
and
a
junior
partner
.
Mr.
Moggs
,
being
of
a
studious
and
refined
disposition
,
had
just
decided-after
a
careful
search
for
a
congenial
subject
in
which
he
would
not
be
constantly
reminded
of
soap-to
devote
himself
to
the
History
of
the
Thebaid
,
when
this
cousin
died
suddenly
and
precipitated
responsibilities
upon
him
.
In
the
frankness
of
conviviality
,
Moggs
bewailed
the
uncongenial
task
thus
thrust
into
his
hands
,
and
my
uncle
offered
to
lighten
his
burden
by
a
partnership
then
and
there
.
They
even
got
to
terms-extremely
muzzy
terms
,
but
terms
nevertheless
.
Each
gentleman
wrote
the
name
and
address
of
the
other
on
his
cuff
,
and
they
separated
in
a
mood
of
brotherly
carelessness
,
and
next
morning
neither
seems
to
have
thought
to
rescue
his
shirt
from
the
wash
until
it
was
too
late
.
My
uncle
made
a
painful
struggle-it
was
one
of
my
business
mornings-to
recall
name
and
particulars
.
"
He
was
an
aquarium-faced
,
long
,
blond
sort
of
chap
,
George
,
with
glasses
and
a
genteel
accent
,
"
he
said
.
I
was
puzzled
.
"
Aquarium-faced
?
"
"
You
know
how
they
look
at
you
.
His
stuff
was
soap
,
I
'm
pretty
nearly
certain
.
And
he
had
a
name-And
the
thing
was
the
straightest
Bit-of-All-right
you
ever
.
I
was
clear
enough
to
spot
that
...
"
We
went
out
at
last
with
knitted
brows
,
and
wandered
up
into
Finsbury
seeking
a
good
,
well-stocked
looking
grocer
.
We
called
first
on
a
chemist
for
a
pick-me-up
for
my
uncle
,
and
then
we
found
the
shop
we
needed
.
"
I
want
,
"
said
my
uncle
,
"
half
a
pound
of
every
sort
of
soap
you
got
.
Yes
,
I
want
to
take
them
now
.
Wait
a
moment
,
George
...
.
Now
what
sort
of
soap
d'you
call
THAT
?
"
At
the
third
repetition
of
that
question
the
young
man
said
,
"
Moggs
'
Domestic
.
"
"
Right
,
"
said
my
uncle
.
"
You
need
n't
guess
again
.
Come
along
,
George
,
let
's
go
to
a
telephone
and
get
on
to
Moggs
.
Oh-the
order
?
Certainly
.
I
confirm
it
.
Send
it
all-send
it
all
to
the
Bishop
of
London
;
he
'll
have
some
good
use
for
it-
(
First-rate
man
,
George
,
he
is-charities
and
all
that
)
-and
put
it
down
to
me
,
here
's
a
card-Ponderevo-Tono-Bungay
.
"
Then
we
went
on
to
Moggs
and
found
him
in
a
camel-hair
dressing-jacket
in
a
luxurious
bed
,
drinking
China
tea
,
and
got
the
shape
of
everything
but
the
figures
fixed
by
lunch
time
.
Young
Moggs
enlarged
my
mind
considerably
;
he
was
a
sort
of
thing
I
had
n't
met
before
;
he
seemed
quite
clean
and
well-informed
and
he
assured
me
to
never
read
newspapers
nor
used
soap
in
any
form
at
all
,
"
Delicate
skin
,
"
he
said
.
"
No
objection
to
our
advertising
you
wide
and
free
?
"
said
my
uncle
.
"
I
draw
the
line
at
railway
stations
,
"
said
Moggs
,
"
south-coast
cliffs
,
theatre
programmes
,
books
by
me
and
poetry
generally-scenery-oh
!
-and
the
Mercure
de
France
.
"
"
We
'll
get
along
,
"
said
my
uncle
.
"
So
long
as
you
do
n't
annoy
me
,
"
said
Moggs
,
lighting
a
cigarette
,
"
you
can
make
me
as
rich
as
you
like
.
"
We
certainly
made
him
no
poorer
.
His
was
the
first
firm
that
was
advertised
by
a
circumstantial
history
;
we
even
got
to
illustrated
magazine
articles
telling
of
the
quaint
past
of
Moggs
.
We
concocted
Moggsiana
.
Trusting
to
our
partner
's
preoccupation
with
the
uncommercial
aspects
of
life
,
we
gave
graceful
history-of
Moggs
the
First
,
Moggs
the
Second
,
Moggs
the
Third
,
and
Moggs
the
Fourth
.
You
must
,
unless
you
are
very
young
,
remember
some
of
them
and
our
admirable
block
of
a
Georgian
shop
window
.
My
uncle
brought
early
nineteenth-century
memoirs
,
soaked
himself
in
the
style
,
and
devised
stories
about
old
Moggs
the
First
and
the
Duke
of
Wellington
,
George
the
Third
and
the
soap
dealer
(
"
almost
certainly
old
Moggs
"
)
.
Very
soon
we
had
added
to
the
original
Moggs
'
Primrose
several
varieties
of
scented
and
superfatted
,
a
"
special
nurseries
used
in
the
household
of
the
Duke
of
Kent
and
for
the
old
Queen
in
Infancy
,
"
a
plate
powder
,
"
the
Paragon
,
"
and
a
knife
powder
.
We
roped
in
a
good
little
second-rate
black-lead
firm
,
and
carried
their
origins
back
into
the
mists
of
antiquity
.
It
was
my
uncle
's
own
unaided
idea
that
we
should
associate
that
commodity
with
the
Black
Prince
.
He
became
industriously
curious
about
the
past
of
black-lead
.
I
remember
his
button-holing
the
president
of
the
Pepys
Society
.
"
I
say
,
is
there
any
black-lead
in
Pepys
?
You
know-black-lead-for
grates
!
OR
DOES
HE
PASS
IT
OVER
AS
A
MATTER
OF
COURSE
?
"
He
became
in
those
days
the
terror
of
eminent
historians
.
"
Do
n't
want
your
drum
and
trumpet
history-no
fear
,
"
he
used
to
say
.
"
Do
n't
want
to
know
who
was
who
's
mistress
,
and
why
so-and-so
devastated
such
a
province
;
that
's
bound
to
be
all
lies
and
upsy-down
anyhow
.
Not
my
affair
.
Nobody
's
affair
now
.
Chaps
who
did
it
did
n't
clearly
know
...
.
What
I
want
to
know
is
,
in
the
Middle
Ages
,
did
they
do
anything
for
Housemaid
's
Knee
?
What
did
they
put
in
their
hot
baths
after
jousting
,
and
was
the
Black
Prince-you
know
the
Black
Prince-was
he
enameled
or
painted
,
or
what
?
I
think
myself
,
black-leaded-very
likely-like
pipe-clay-but
DID
they
use
blacking
so
early
?
"
So
it
came
about
that
in
designing
and
writing
those
Moggs
'
Soap
Advertisements
,
that
wrought
a
revolution
in
that
department
of
literature
,
my
uncle
was
brought
to
realise
not
only
the
lost
history
,
but
also
the
enormous
field
for
invention
and
enterprise
that
lurked
among
the
little
articles
,
the
dustpans
and
mincers
,
the
mousetraps
and
carpet-sweepers
that
fringe
the
shops
of
the
oilman
and
domestic
ironmonger
.
He
was
recalled
to
one
of
the
dreams
of
his
youth
,
to
his
conception
of
the
Ponderevo
Patent
Flat
that
had
been
in
his
mind
so
early
as
the
days
before
I
went
to
serve
him
at
Wimblehurst
.
"
The
Home
,
George
,
"
he
said
,
"
wants
straightening
up
.
Silly
muddle
!
Things
that
get
in
the
way
.
Got
to
organise
it
.
"
For
a
time
he
displayed
something
like
the
zeal
of
a
genuine
social
reformer
in
relation
to
these
matters
.
"
We
've
got
to
bring
the
Home
Up
to
Date
?
That
's
my
idee
,
George
.
We
got
to
make
a
civilised
domestic
machine
out
of
these
relics
of
barbarism
.
I
'm
going
to
hunt
up
inventors
,
make
a
corner
in
d'mestic
ideas
.
Everything
.
Balls
of
string
that
wo
n't
dissolve
into
a
tangle
,
and
gum
that
wo
n't
dry
into
horn
.
See
?
Then
after
conveniences-beauty
.
Beauty
,
George
!
All
these
few
things
ought
to
be
made
fit
to
look
at
;
it
's
your
aunt
's
idea
,
that
.
Beautiful
jam-pots
!
Get
one
of
those
new
art
chaps
to
design
all
the
things
they
make
ugly
now
.
Patent
carpet-sweepers
by
these
greenwood
chaps
,
housemaid
's
boxes
it
'll
be
a
pleasure
to
fall
over-rich
coloured
house-flannels
.
Zzzz
.
Pails
,
f'rinstance
.
Hang
'
em
up
on
the
walls
like
warming-pans
.
All
the
polishes
and
things
in
such
tins-you
'll
want
to
cuddle
'
em
,
George
!
See
the
notion
?
'
Sted
of
all
the
silly
ugly
things
we
got
.
"
...
We
had
some
magnificent
visions
;
they
so
affected
me
that
when
I
passed
ironmongers
and
oil-shops
they
seemed
to
me
as
full
of
promise
as
trees
in
late
winter
,
flushed
with
the
effort
to
burst
into
leaf
and
flower
...
.
And
really
we
did
do
much
towards
that
very
brightness
these
shops
display
.
They
were
dingy
things
in
the
eighties
compared
to
what
our
efforts
have
made
them
now
,
grey
quiet
displays
.
Well
,
I
do
n't
intend
to
write
down
here
the
tortuous
financial
history
of
Moggs
'
Limited
,
which
was
our
first
development
of
Moggs
and
Sons
;
nor
will
I
tell
very
much
of
how
from
that
we
spread
ourselves
with
a
larger
and
larger
conception
throughout
the
chandlery
and
minor
ironmongery
,
how
we
became
agents
for
this
little
commodity
,
partners
in
that
,
got
a
tentacle
round
the
neck
of
a
specialised
manufacturer
or
so
,
secured
a
pull
upon
this
or
that
supply
of
raw
material
,
and
so
prepared
the
way
for
our
second
flotation
,
Domestic
Utilities
;
"
Do
it
,
"
they
reordered
it
in
the
city
.
And
then
came
the
reconstruction
of
Tono-Bungay
,
and
then
"
Household
services
"
and
the
Boom
!
That
sort
of
development
is
not
to
be
told
in
detail
in
a
novel
.
I
have
,
indeed
,
told
much
of
it
elsewhere
.
It
is
to
be
found
set
out
at
length
,
painfully
at
length
,
in
my
uncle
's
examination
and
mine
in
the
bankruptcy
proceedings
,
and
in
my
own
various
statements
after
his
death
.
Some
people
know
everything
in
that
story
,
some
know
it
all
too
well
,
most
do
not
want
the
details
,
it
is
the
story
of
a
man
of
imagination
among
figures
,
and
unless
you
are
prepared
to
collate
columns
of
pounds
,
shillings
and
pence
,
compare
dates
and
check
additions
,
you
will
find
it
very
unmeaning
and
perplexing
.
And
after
all
,
you
would
n't
find
the
early
figures
so
much
wrong
as
STRAINED
.
In
the
matter
of
Moggs
and
Do
Ut
,
as
in
the
first
Tono-Bungay
promotion
and
in
its
reconstruction
,
we
left
the
court
by
city
standards
without
a
stain
on
our
characters
.
The
great
amalgamation
of
Household
Services
was
my
uncle
's
first
really
big-scale
enterprise
and
his
first
display
of
bolder
methods
:
for
this
we
bought
back
Do
Ut
,
Moggs
(
going
strong
with
a
seven
per
cent
.
dividend
)
and
acquired
Skinnerton
's
polishes
,
the
Riffleshaw
properties
and
the
Runcorn
's
mincer
and
coffee-mill
business
.
To
that
Amalgamation
I
was
really
not
a
party
;
I
left
it
to
my
uncle
because
I
was
then
beginning
to
get
keen
upon
the
soaring
experiments
I
had
taken
on
from
the
results
then
to
hand
of
Lilienthal
,
Pilcher
and
the
Wright
brothers
.
I
was
developing
a
glider
into
a
flyer
.
I
meant
to
apply
power
to
this
glider
as
soon
as
I
could
work
out
one
or
two
residual
problems
affecting
the
longitudinal
stability
.
I
knew
that
I
had
a
sufficiently
light
motor
in
my
own
modification
of
Bridger
's
light
turbine
,
but
I
knew
too
that
until
I
had
cured
my
aeroplane
of
a
tendency
demanding
constant
alertness
from
me
,
a
tendency
to
jerk
up
its
nose
at
unexpected
moments
and
slide
back
upon
me
,
the
application
of
an
engine
would
be
little
short
of
suicide
.
But
that
I
will
tell
about
later
.
The
point
I
was
coming
to
was
that
I
did
not
realise
until
after
the
crash
how
recklessly
my
uncle
had
kept
his
promise
of
paying
a
dividend
of
over
eight
per
cent
.
on
the
ordinary
shares
of
that
hugely
over-capitalised
enterprise
,
Household
Services
.
I
drifted
out
of
business
affairs
into
my
research
much
more
than
either
I
or
my
uncle
had
contemplated
.
Finance
was
much
less
to
my
taste
than
the
organisation
of
the
Tono-Bungay
factory
.
In
the
new
field
of
enterprise
there
was
a
great
deal
of
bluffing
and
gambling
,
of
taking
chances
and
concealing
material
facts-and
these
are
hateful
things
to
the
scientific
type
of
mind
.
It
was
n't
fear
I
felt
so
much
as
an
uneasy
inaccuracy
.
I
did
n't
realise
dangers
,
I
simply
disliked
the
sloppy
,
relaxing
quality
of
this
new
sort
of
work
.
I
was
at
last
constantly
making
excuses
not
to
come
up
to
him
in
London
.
The
latter
part
of
his
business
career
recedes
therefore
beyond
the
circle
of
any
particular
life
.
I
lived
more
or
less
with
him
;
I
talked
,
I
advised
,
I
helped
him
at
times
to
fight
his
Sunday
crowd
at
Crest
Hill
,
but
I
did
not
follow
nor
guide
him
.
From
the
Do
Ut
time
onward
he
rushed
up
the
financial
world
like
a
bubble
in
water
and
left
me
like
some
busy
water-thing
down
below
in
the
deeps
.
Anyhow
,
he
was
an
immense
success
.
The
public
was
,
I
think
,
particularly
attracted
by
the
homely
familiarity
of
his
field
of
work-you
never
lost
sight
of
your
investment
they
felt
,
with
the
name
on
the
house-flannel
and
shaving-strop-and
its
allegiance
was
secured
by
the
Egyptian
solidity
of
his
apparent
results
.
Tono-Bungay
,
after
its
reconstruction
,
paid
thirteen
,
Moggs
seven
,
Domestic
Utilities
had
been
a
safe-looking
nine
;
here
was
Household
Services
with
eight
;
on
such
a
showing
he
had
merely
to
buy
and
sell
Roeburn
's
Antiseptic
fluid
,
Razor
soaks
and
Bath
crystals
in
three
weeks
to
clear
twenty
thousand
pounds
.
I
do
think
that
as
a
matter
of
fact
Roeburn
's
was
good
value
at
the
price
at
which
he
gave
it
to
the
public
,
at
least
until
it
was
strained
by
ill-conserved
advertisement
.
It
was
a
period
of
expansion
and
confidence
;
much
money
was
seeking
investment
and
"
Industrials
"
were
the
fashion
.
Prices
were
rising
all
round
.
There
remained
little
more
for
my
uncle
to
do
therefore
,
in
his
climb
to
the
high
unstable
crest
of
Financial
Greatness
but
,
as
he
said
,
to
"
grasp
the
cosmic
oyster
,
George
,
while
it
gaped
,
"
which
,
being
translated
,
meant
for
him
to
buy
respectable
businesses
confidently
and
courageously
at
the
vendor
's
estimate
,
add
thirty
or
forty
thousand
to
the
price
and
sell
them
again
.
His
sole
difficulty
indeed
was
the
tactful
management
of
the
load
of
shares
that
each
of
these
transactions
left
upon
his
hands
.
But
I
thought
so
little
of
these
later
things
that
I
never
fully
appreciated
the
peculiar
inconveniences
of
that
until
it
was
too
late
to
help
him
.
When
I
think
of
my
uncle
near
the
days
of
his
Great
Boom
and
in
connection
with
the
actualities
of
his
enterprises
,
I
think
of
him
as
I
used
to
see
him
in
the
suite
of
rooms
he
occupied
in
the
Hardingham
Hotel
,
seated
at
a
great
old
oak
writing-table
,
smoking
,
drinking
,
and
incoherently
busy
;
that
was
his
typical
financial
aspect-our
evenings
,
our
mornings
,
our
holidays
,
our
motor-car
expeditions
,
Lady
Grove
and
Crest
Hill
belong
to
an
altogether
different
set
of
memories
.
These
rooms
in
the
Hardingham
were
a
string
of
apartments
along
one
handsome
thick-carpeted
corridor
.
All
the
doors
upon
the
corridor
were
locked
except
the
first
;
and
my
uncle
's
bedroom
,
breakfast-room
and
private
sanctum
were
the
least
accessible
and
served
by
an
entrance
from
the
adjacent
passage
,
which
he
also
used
at
times
as
a
means
of
escape
from
importunate
callers
.
The
most
eternal
room
was
a
general
waiting-room
and
very
business-like
in
quality
;
it
had
one
or
two
uneasy
sofas
,
a
number
of
chairs
,
a
green
baize
table
,
and
a
collection
of
the
very
best
Moggs
and
Tone
posters
:
and
the
plush
carpets
normal
to
the
Hardingham
had
been
replaced
by
a
grey-green
cork
linoleum
;
Here
I
would
always
find
a
remarkable
miscellany
of
people
presided
over
by
a
peculiarly
faithful
and
ferocious
looking
commissioner
,
Ropper
,
who
guarded
the
door
that
led
a
step
nearer
my
uncle
.
Usually
there
would
be
a
parson
or
so
,
and
one
or
two
widows
;
hairy
,
eyeglassy
,
middle-aged
gentlemen
,
some
of
them
looking
singularly
like
Edward
Ponderevos
who
had
n't
come
off
,
a
variety
of
young
and
youngish
men
more
or
less
attractively
dressed
,
some
with
papers
protruding
from
their
pockets
,
others
with
their
papers
decently
concealed
.
And
wonderful
,
incidental
,
frowsy
people
.
All
these
persons
maintained
a
practically
hopeless
siege-sometimes
for
weeks
together
;
they
had
better
have
stayed
at
home
.
Next
came
a
room
full
of
people
who
had
some
sort
of
appointment
,
and
here
one
would
find
smart-looking
people
,
brilliantly
dressed
,
nervous
women
hiding
behind
magazines
,
nonconformist
divines
,
clergy
in
gaiters
,
real
business
men
,
these
latter
for
the
most
part
gentlemen
in
admirable
morning
dress
who
stood
up
and
scrutinised
my
uncle
's
taste
in
water
colours
manfully
and
sometimes
by
the
hour
together
.
Young
men
again
were
here
of
various
social
origins
,
young
Americans
,
treasonable
clerks
from
other
concerns
,
university
young
men
,
keen-looking
,
most
of
them
,
resolute
,
reserved
,
but
on
a
sort
of
hair
trigger
,
ready
at
any
moment
to
be
most
voluble
,
most
persuasive
.
This
room
had
a
window
,
too
,
looking
out
into
the
hotel
courtyard
with
its
fern-set
fountains
and
mosaic
pavement
,
and
the
young
men
would
stand
against
this
and
sometimes
even
mutter
.
One
day
I
heard
one
repeating
in
all
urgent
whisper
as
I
passed
"
But
you
do
n't
quite
see
,
Mr.
Ponderevo
,
the
full
advantages
,
the
FULL
advantages-
"
I
met
his
eye
and
he
was
embarrassed
.
Then
came
a
room
with
a
couple
of
secretaries-no
typewriters
,
because
my
uncle
hated
the
clatter-and
a
casual
person
or
two
sitting
about
,
projectors
whose
projects
were
being
entertained
.
Here
and
in
a
further
room
nearer
the
private
apartments
,
my
uncle
's
correspondence
underwent
an
exhaustive
process
of
pruning
and
digestion
before
it
reached
him
.
Then
the
two
little
rooms
in
which
my
uncle
talked
;
my
magic
uncle
who
had
got
the
investing
public-to
whom
all
things
were
possible
.
As
one
came
in
we
would
find
him
squatting
with
his
cigar
up
and
an
expression
of
dubious
beatitude
upon
his
face
,
while
some
one
urged
him
to
grow
still
richer
by
this
or
that
.
"
That'ju
,
George
?
"
he
used
to
say
.
"
Come
in
.
Here
's
a
thing
.
Tell
him-Mister-over
again
.
Have
a
drink
,
George
?
No
!
Wise
man
!
Liss'n
.
"
I
was
always
ready
to
listen
.
All
sorts
of
financial
marvels
came
out
of
the
Hardingham
,
more
particularly
during
my
uncle
's
last
great
flurry
,
but
they
were
nothing
to
the
projects
that
passed
in
.
It
was
the
little
brown
and
gold
room
he
sat
in
usually
.
He
had
had
it
redecorated
by
Bordingly
and
half
a
dozen
Sussex
pictures
by
Webster
hung
about
it
.
Latterly
he
wore
a
velveteen
jacket
of
a
golden-brown
colour
in
this
apartment
that
I
think
over-emphasised
its
esthetic
intention
,
and
he
also
added
some
gross
Chinese
bronzes
.
He
was
,
on
the
whole
,
a
very
happy
man
throughout
all
that
wildly
enterprising
time
.
He
made
and
,
as
I
shall
tell
in
its
place
,
spent
great
sums
of
money
.
He
was
constantly
in
violent
motion
,
constantly
stimulated
mentally
and
physically
and
rarely
tired
.
About
him
was
an
atmosphere
of
immense
deference
much
of
his
waking
life
was
triumphal
and
all
his
dreams
.
I
doubt
if
he
had
any
dissatisfaction
with
himself
at
all
until
the
crash
bore
him
down
.
Things
must
have
gone
very
rapidly
with
him
...
.
I
think
he
must
have
been
very
happy
.
As
I
sit
here
writing
about
all
these
things
,
jerking
down
notes
and
throwing
them
aside
in
my
attempt
to
give
some
literary
form
to
the
tale
of
our
promotions
,
the
marvel
of
it
all
comes
to
me
as
if
it
came
for
the
first
time
the
supreme
unreason
of
it
.
At
the
climax
of
his
Boom
,
my
uncle
at
the
most
sparing
estimate
must
have
possessed
in
substance
and
credit
about
two
million
pounds'-worth
of
property
to
set
off
against
his
vague
colossal
liabilities
,
and
from
first
to
last
he
must
have
had
a
controlling
influence
in
the
direction
of
nearly
thirty
millions
.
This
irrational
muddle
of
a
community
in
which
we
live
gave
him
that
,
paid
him
at
that
rate
for
sitting
in
a
room
and
scheming
and
telling
it
lies
.
For
he
created
nothing
,
he
invented
nothing
,
he
economised
nothing
.
I
cannot
claim
that
a
single
one
of
the
great
businesses
we
organised
added
any
real
value
to
human
life
at
all
.
Several
like
Tono-Bungay
were
unmitigated
frauds
by
any
honest
standard
,
the
giving
of
nothing
coated
in
advertisements
for
money
.
And
the
things
the
Hardingham
gave
out
,
I
repeat
,
were
nothing
to
the
things
that
came
in
.
I
think
of
the
long
procession
of
people
who
sat
down
before
us
and
propounded
this
and
that
.
Now
it
was
a
device
for
selling
bread
under
a
fancy
name
and
so
escaping
the
laws
as
to
weight-this
was
afterwards
floated
as
the
Decorticated
Health-Bread
Company
and
bumped
against
the
law-now
it
was
a
new
scheme
for
still
more
strident
advertisement
,
now
it
was
a
story
of
unsuspected
deposits
of
minerals
,
now
a
cheap
and
nasty
substitute
for
this
or
that
common
necessity
,
now
the
treachery
of
a
too
well-informed
employee
,
anxious
to
become
our
partner
.
It
was
all
put
to
us
tentatively
,
persuasively
.
Sometimes
one
had
a
large
pink
blusterous
person
trying
to
carry
us
off
our
feet
by
his
pseudo-boyish
frankness
,
now
some
dyspeptically
yellow
whisperer
,
now
some
earnest
,
specially
dressed
youth
with
an
eye-glass
and
a
buttonhole
,
now
some
homely-speaking
,
shrewd
Manchester
man
or
some
Scotchman
eager
to
be
very
clear
and
full
.
Many
came
in
couples
or
trios
,
often
in
tow
of
an
explanatory
solicitor
.
Some
were
white
and
earnest
,
some
flustered
beyond
measure
at
their
opportunity
.
Some
of
them
begged
and
prayed
to
be
taken
up
.
My
uncle
chose
what
he
wanted
and
left
the
rest
.
He
became
very
autocratic
to
these
applicants
.
He
felt
he
could
make
them
,
and
they
felt
so
too
.
He
had
but
to
say
"
No
!
"
and
they
faded
out
of
existence
...
.
He
had
become
a
sort
of
vortex
to
which
wealth
flowed
of
its
own
accord
.
His
possessions
increased
by
heaps
;
his
shares
,
his
leaseholds
and
mortgages
and
debentures
.
Behind
his
first-line
things
he
found
it
necessary
at
last
,
and
sanctioned
by
all
the
precincts
,
to
set
up
three
general
trading
companies
,
the
London
and
African
Investment
Company
,
the
British
Traders
'
Loan
Company
,
and
Business
Organisations
Limited
.
This
was
in
the
culminating
time
when
I
had
least
to
do
with
affairs
.
I
do
n't
say
that
with
any
desire
to
exculpate
myself
;
I
admit
I
was
a
director
of
all
three
,
and
I
will
confess
I
was
willfully
incurious
in
that
capacity
.
Each
of
these
companies
ended
its
financial
year
solvent
by
selling
great
holdings
of
shares
to
one
or
other
of
its
sisters
,
and
paying
a
dividend
out
of
the
proceeds
.
I
sat
at
the
table
and
agreed
.
That
was
our
method
of
equilibrium
at
the
iridescent
climax
of
the
bubble
.
You
perceive
now
,
however
,
the
nature
of
the
services
for
which
this
fantastic
community
have
him
unmanageable
wealth
and
power
and
real
respect
.
It
was
all
a
monstrous
payment
for
courageous
fiction
,
a
gratuity
in
return
for
the
one
reality
of
human
life-illusion
.
We
gave
them
a
feeling
of
hope
and
profit
;
we
sent
a
tidal
wave
of
water
and
confidence
into
their
stranded
affairs
.
"
We
mint
Faith
,
George
,
"
said
my
uncle
one
day
.
"
That
's
what
we
do
.
And
by
Jove
we
got
to
keep
minting
!
We
been
making
human
confidence
ever
since
I
drove
the
first
cork
of
Tono-Bungay
.
"
"
Coining
"
would
have
been
a
better
word
than
minting
!
And
yet
,
you
know
,
in
a
sense
he
was
right
.
Civilisation
is
possible
only
through
confidence
,
so
that
we
can
bank
our
money
and
go
unarmed
about
the
streets
.
The
bank
reserve
or
a
policeman
keeping
order
in
a
jostling
multitude
of
people
,
are
only
slightly
less
impudent
bluffs
than
my
uncle
's
prospectuses
.
They
could
n't
for
a
moment
"
make
good
"
if
the
quarter
of
what
they
guarantee
was
demanded
of
them
.
The
whole
of
this
modern
mercantile
investing
civilisation
is
indeed
such
stuff
as
dreams
are
made
of
.
A
mass
of
people
swelters
and
toils
,
great
railway
systems
grow
,
cities
arise
to
the
skies
and
spread
wide
and
far
,
mines
are
opened
,
factories
hum
,
foundries
roar
,
ships
plough
the
seas
,
countries
are
settled
;
about
this
busy
striving
world
the
rich
owners
go
,
controlling
all
,
enjoying
all
,
confident
and
creating
the
confidence
that
draws
us
all
together
into
a
reluctant
,
nearly
unconscious
brotherhood
.
I
wonder
and
plan
my
engines
.
The
flags
flutter
,
the
crowds
cheer
,
the
legislatures
meet
.
Yet
it
seems
to
me
indeed
at
times
that
all
this
present
commercial
civilisation
is
no
more
than
my
poor
uncle
's
career
writ
large
,
a
swelling
,
thinning
bubble
of
assurances
;
that
its
arithmetic
is
just
as
unsound
,
its
dividends
as
ill-advised
,
its
ultimate
aim
as
vague
and
forgotten
;
that
it
all
drifts
on
perhaps
to
some
tremendous
parallel
to
his
individual
disaster
...
Well
,
so
it
was
we
Boomed
,
and
for
four
years
and
a
half
we
lived
a
life
of
mingled
substance
and
moonshine
.
Until
our
particular
unsoundness
overtook
us
we
went
about
in
the
most
magnificent
of
motor-cars
upon
tangible
high
roads
,
made
ourselves
conspicuous
and
stately
in
splendid
houses
,
ate
sumptuously
and
had
a
perpetual
stream
of
notes
and
money
trickling
into
our
pockets
;
hundreds
of
thousands
of
men
and
women
respected
us
,
saluted
us
and
gave
us
toil
and
honour
;
I
asked
,
and
my
worksheets
rose
,
my
aeroplanes
swooped
out
of
nothingness
to
scare
the
downland
pe-wits
;
my
uncle
waved
his
hand
and
Lady
Grove
and
all
its
associations
of
chivalry
and
ancient
peace
were
his
;
waved
again
,
and
architects
were
busy
planning
the
great
palace
he
never
finished
at
Crest
Hill
and
an
army
of
folkmen
gathered
to
do
his
bidding
,
blue
marble
came
from
Canada
,
and
timber
from
New
Zealand
;
and
beneath
it
all
,
you
know
,
there
was
nothing
but
fictitious
values
as
evanescent
as
rainbow
gold
.
I
pass
the
Hardingham
ever
and
again
and
glance
aside
through
the
great
archway
at
the
fountain
and
the
ferns
,
and
think
of
those
receding
days
when
I
was
so
near
the
centre
of
our
eddy
of
greed
and
enterprise
.
I
see
again
my
uncle
's
face
,
white
and
intent
,
and
hear
him
discourse
,
hear
him
make
consciously
Napoleonic
decisions
,
"
grip
"
his
nettles
,
put
his
"
finger
on
the
spot
,
"
"
bluff
,
"
say
"
snap
.
"
He
became
particularly
addicted
to
the
last
idiom
.
Towards
the
end
every
conceivable
act
took
the
form
of
saying
"
snap
!
"
The
odd
fish
that
came
to
us
!
And
among
others
came
Gordon-Nasmyth
,
that
queer
blend
of
romance
and
illegality
who
was
destined
to
drag
me
into
the
most
irrelevant
adventure
in
my
life
the
Mordet
Island
affair
;
and
leave
me
,
as
they
say
,
with
blood
upon
my
hands
.
It
is
remarkable
how
little
it
troubles
my
conscience
and
how
much
it
stirs
my
imagination
,
that
particular
memory
of
the
life
I
took
.
The
story
of
Mordet
Island
has
been
told
in
a
government
report
and
told
all
wrong
;
there
are
still
excellent
reasons
for
leaving
it
wrong
in
places
,
but
the
liveliest
appeals
of
discretion
forbid
my
leaving
it
out
altogether
.
I
've
still
the
vividest
memory
of
Gordon-Nasmyth
's
appearance
in
the
inner
sanctum
,
a
lank
,
sunburnt
person
in
tweeds
with
a
yellow-brown
hatchet
face
and
one
faded
blue
eye-the
other
was
a
closed
and
sunken
lid-and
how
he
told
us
with
a
stiff
affectation
of
ease
his
incredible
story
of
this
great
heap
of
quap
that
lay
abandoned
or
undiscovered
on
the
beach
behind
Mordet
's
Island
among
white
dead
mangroves
and
the
black
ooze
of
brackish
water
.
"
What
's
quap
?
"
said
my
uncle
on
the
fourth
repetition
of
the
word
.
"
They
call
it
quap
,
or
quab
,
or
quabb
,
"
said
Gordon-Nasmyth
;
"
but
our
relations
were
n't
friendly
enough
to
get
the
accent
right
...
.
"
But
there
the
stuff
is
for
the
taking
.
They
do
n't
know
about
it
.
Nobody
knows
about
it
.
I
got
down
to
the
damned
place
in
a
canoe
alone
.
The
boys
would
n't
come
.
I
pretended
to
be
botanising
.
"
...
To
begin
with
,
Gordon-Nasmyth
was
inclined
to
be
dramatic
.
"
Look
here
,
"
he
said
when
he
first
came
in
,
shutting
the
door
rather
carefully
behind
him
as
he
spoke
,
"
do
you
two
men-yes
or
no-want
to
put
up
six
thousand-for-a
clear
good
chance
of
fifteen
hundred
per
cent
.
on
your
money
in
a
year
?
"
"
We
're
always
getting
chances
like
that
,
"
said
my
uncle
,
cocking
his
cigar
offensively
,
wiping
his
glasses
and
tilting
his
chair
back
.
"
We
stick
to
a
safe
twenty
.
"
Gordon-Nasmyth
's
quick
temper
showed
in
a
slight
stiffening
of
his
attitude
.
"
Do
n't
you
believe
him
,
"
said
I
,
getting
up
before
he
could
reply
.
"
You
're
different
,
and
I
know
your
books
.
We
're
very
glad
you
've
come
to
us
.
Confound
it
,
uncle
!
Its
Gordon-Nasmyth
!
Sit
down
.
What
is
it
?
Minerals
?
"
"
Quap
,
"
said
Gordon-Nasmyth
,
fixing
his
eye
on
me
,
"
in
heaps
.
"
"
In
heaps
,
"
said
my
uncle
softly
,
with
his
glasses
very
oblique
.
"
You
're
only
fit
for
the
grocery
,
"
said
Gordon-Nasmyth
scornfully
,
sitting
down
and
helping
himself
to
one
of
my
uncle
's
cigars
.
"
I
'm
sorry
I
came
.
But
,
still
,
now
I
'm
here
...
.
And
first
as
to
quap
;
quap
,
sir
,
is
the
most
radio-active
stuff
in
the
world
.
That
's
quap
!
It
's
a
festering
mass
of
earths
and
heavy
metals
,
polonium
,
radium
,
ythorium
,
thorium
,
carium
,
and
new
things
,
too
.
There
's
a
stuff
called
Xk-provisionally
.
There
they
are
,
mucked
up
together
in
a
sort
of
rotting
sand
.
What
it
is
,
how
it
got
made
,
I
do
n't
know
.
It
's
like
as
if
some
young
creator
had
been
playing
about
there
.
There
it
lies
in
two
heaps
,
one
small
,
one
great
,
and
the
world
for
miles
about
it
is
blasted
and
scorched
and
dead
.
You
can
have
it
for
the
getting
.
You
've
got
to
take
it-that
's
all
!
"
"
That
sounds
all
right
,
"
said
I
.
"
Have
you
samples
?
"
"
Well-should
I
?
You
can
have
anything-up
to
two
ounces
.
"
"
Where
is
it
?
"
...
His
blue
eye
smiled
at
me
and
scrutinised
me
.
He
smoked
and
was
fragmentary
for
a
time
,
fending
off
my
questions
;
then
his
story
began
to
piece
itself
together
.
He
conjured
up
a
vision
of
this
strange
forgotten
kink
in
the
world
's
littoral
,
of
the
long
meandering
channels
that
spread
and
divaricate
and
spend
their
burden
of
mud
and
silt
within
the
thunderbelt
of
Atlantic
surf
,
of
the
dense
tangled
vegetation
that
creeps
into
the
shimmering
water
with
root
and
sucker
.
He
gave
a
sense
of
heat
and
a
perpetual
reek
of
vegetable
decay
,
and
told
how
at
last
comes
a
break
among
these
things
,
an
arena
fringed
with
bone-white
dead
trees
,
a
sight
of
the
hard-blue
sea
line
beyond
the
dazzling
surf
and
a
wide
desolation
of
dirty
shingle
and
mud
,
bleached
and
scarred
...
.
A
little
way
off
among
charred
dead
weeds
stands
the
abandoned
station
,
-abandoned
because
every
man
who
stayed
two
months
at
that
station
stayed
to
die
,
eaten
up
mysteriously
like
a
leper
with
its
dismantled
sheds
and
its
decaying
pier
of
wormrotten
and
oblique
piles
and
planks
,
still
insecurely
possible
.
And
in
the
midst
,
two
clumsy
heaps
shaped
like
the
backs
of
hogs
,
one
small
,
one
great
,
sticking
out
under
a
rib
of
rock
that
cuts
the
space
across
,
-quap
!
"
There
it
is
,
"
said
Gordon-Nasmyth
,
"
worth
three
pounds
an
ounce
,
if
it
's
worth
a
penny
;
two
great
heaps
of
it
,
rotten
stuff
and
soft
,
ready
to
shovel
and
wheel
,
and
you
may
get
it
by
the
ton
!
"
"
How
did
it
get
there
?
"
"
God
knows
!
...
There
it
is-for
the
taking
!
In
a
country
where
you
must
n't
trade
.
In
a
country
where
the
company
waits
for
good
kind
men
to
find
it
riches
and
then
take
'
em
away
from
'
em
.
There
you
have
it-derelict
.
"
"
Ca
n't
you
do
any
sort
of
deal
?
"
"
They
're
too
damned
stupid
.
You
've
got
to
go
and
take
it
.
That
's
all
.
"
"
They
might
catch
you
.
"
"
They
might
,
of
course
.
But
they
're
not
great
at
catching
.
"
We
went
into
the
particulars
of
that
difficulty
.
"
They
would
n't
catch
me
,
because
I
'd
sink
first
.
Give
me
a
yacht
,
"
said
Gordon-Nasmyth
;
"
that
's
all
I
need
.
"
"
But
if
you
get
caught
,
"
said
my
uncle
.
I
am
inclined
to
think
Gordon-Nasmyth
imagined
we
would
give
him
a
cheque
for
six
thousand
pounds
on
the
strength
of
his
talk
.
It
was
very
good
talk
,
but
we
did
n't
do
that
.
I
stipulated
for
