v

As the door was closed Edgar could not forbear the comment which had been in his mind from the moment of discovery that a party was in progress.

"I thought from your letter that you were in some urgent difficulty," he said.

Monty was quite suave. He stood before his companion with the utmost nonchalance, a faint smile upon his lips.

"Do sit down," he answered, in that gentle voice with the rising note. "I am in a difficulty, and it's most kind of you to ... give me your advice. Now, in detail that is quite impossible this evening. This ... this affair prevents my being away long. But perhaps if I tell you a little more the whole matter will be ... plainer." When Edgar was settled, Monty supported himself by the table, and continued. "Well, now ... as I told you, there's about twenty thousand invested in those different ... concerns. In every case the prices are seriously down. Most of them will go up again."

"Quite," agreed Edgar.

"Normally, then, I should hang on. And of course I could borrow from the bank."

"I wondered why you hadn't done that."

Monty lowered his voice still further, until the thick vibration which underlay its ordinary softness was emphasised. Edgar had the sense that Monty always spoke of business in this lazy and confidential way, that he had the large loose meanness of those born opulent, that even in dealing with himself Monty was conscious of a sort of explanatory patience.

"I don't want to go to the bank for a reason which ... I wonder if you'll appreciate its strength ... because ... well, the local manager is ... an acquaintance ... a very social man ... rather indiscreet; and his wife might possibly be more indiscreet; and I'm a little morbid about...."

"Do they—I understand perfectly. Do you keep your securities at the bank, or do you keep them yourself?"

"At the bank. That's the trouble. I can get them, of course. I could transfer them from this branch and deposit them elsewhere without question or inconvenience; but I have a very definite personal reason for making no change at all in my present allocations. And, my dear Mayne, the money I need is ... I need hardly say, this is in great confidence.... The money I need will have to be paid quickly, and ... in fact, the whole thing is difficult."

"What's the sum?"

"Two-thousand five-hundred. You understand, I don't...."

"Who are your bankers? Could it be done with the Head Office? No, I suppose not."

"Not.... Look here, Mayne, I don't want to be mysterious at all...."

"No: that's quite all right. I'm only thinking...."

"It's the Great Central Bank, just up here. I particularly don't want to do anything whatever in relation to the bank. But for that I shouldn't have troubled you. I want to raise the money outside. I don't want to alter my deposits. Let me make that perfectly clear."

Edgar interrupted him.

"You'd like me to suggest lending you the money myself?" he asked directly.

There was a moment's pause—as if for the passage of a shiver of distaste for such brusque ill-breeding. Then Monty, as if nothing in the world could have ruffled him, nodded slowly.

"That would be most kind," he replied. "Most kind."

"I wonder how long it would be for?" pondered Edgar, aloud.

"Five hundred in a month's time. The whole of the rest within six months. That I think I could promise definitely. Could you do it yourself without inconvenience? You're most generous."

I wonder if I'm generous? thought Edgar, recalling Gaythorpe's jeer at his morbidity. And secretly he knew that it was not generosity but a sort of contempt which had prompted his leading question, and that Monty himself, placed similarly, would have avoided the issue and evaded the loan.

"Well, I'm not a money-lender; and it's quite true that the thing presents difficulties. But I could certainly arrange to let you have the money."

"My dear Mayne...."

"Not at all. When do you want it? And how?" He was impatient.

Monty shrugged. His orientalism was more marked than ever.

"This instant," he admitted. "Or ... as soon as possible." Edgar nodded. "And I should like it," continued Monty, with his singular smile, "I should like it—if that happened quite perfectly to suit you—as an open cheque, payable to bearer...."