“A week or two goes by.  The other fellow loafs about the house as if there had been nothing, and Cloete begins to doubt whether he really means ever to tackle that job.  But one day he stops Cloete at the door, with his downcast eyes:  What about that employment you wished to give me? he asks. . .  You see, he had played some more than usual dirty trick on the woman and expected awful ructions presently; and to be fired out for sure.  Cloete very pleased.  George had been prevaricating to him such a lot that he really thought the thing was as well as settled.  And he says:  Yes.  It’s time I introduced you to my friend.  Just get your hat and we will go now. . .

“The two come into the office, and George at his desk sits up in a sudden panic—­staring.  Sees a tallish fellow, sort of nasty-handsome face, heavy eyes, half shut; short drab overcoat, shabby bowler hat, very careful—­like in his movements.  And he thinks to himself, Is that how such a man looks!  No, the thing’s impossible. . .  Cloete does the introduction, and the fellow turns round to look behind him at the chair before he sits down. . .  A thoroughly competent man, Cloete goes on . . .  The man says nothing, sits perfectly quiet.  And George can’t speak, throat too dry.  Then he makes an effort:  H’m!  H’m!  Oh yes—­unfortunately—­sorry to disappoint—­my brother—­made other arrangements—­going himself.

“The fellow gets up, never raising his eyes off the ground, like a modest girl, and goes out softly, right out of the office without a sound.  Cloete sticks his chin in his hand and bites all his fingers at once.  George’s heart slows down and he speaks to Cloete. . .  This can’t be done.  How can it be?  Directly the ship is lost Harry would see through it.  You know he is a man to go to the underwriters himself with his suspicions.  And he would break his heart over me.  How can I play that on him?  There’s only two of us in the world belonging to each other. . .

“Cloete lets out a horrid cuss-word, jumps up, bolts away into his room, and George hears him there banging things around.  After a while he goes to the door and says in a trembling voice:  You ask me for an impossibility. . .  Cloete inside ready to fly out like a tiger and rend him; but he opens the door a little way and says softly:  Talking of hearts, yours is no bigger than a mouse’s, let me tell you. . .  But George doesn’t care—­load off the heart, anyhow.  And just then Captain Harry comes in. . .  Hallo, George boy.  I am little late.  What about a chop at the Cheshire, now? . . .  Right you are, old man. . .  And off they go to lunch together.  Cloete has nothing to eat that day.

“George feels a new man for a time; but all of a sudden that fellow Stafford begins to hang about the street, in sight of the house door.  The first time George sees him he thinks he made a mistake.  But no; next time he has to go out, there is the very fellow skulking on the other side of the road.  It makes George nervous; but he must go out on business, and when the fellow cuts across the road-way he dodges him.  He dodges him once, twice, three times; but at last he gets nabbed in his very doorway. . .  What do you want? he says, trying to look fierce.