“Have you bought it?”

“No,” Mr. Bryany seemed to apologize.  “I haven’t exactly bought it.  But I’ve got an option on it.”

The magic word “option” wakened the drowsy speculator in Edward Henry.  And the mere act of looking at the plan endowed the plot of land with reality!  There it was!  It existed!

“An option to buy it?”

“You can’t buy land in the West End of London,” said Mr. Bryany, sagely.  “You can only lease it.”

“Well, of course!” Edward Henry concurred.

“The freehold belongs to Lord Woldo, now aged six months.”

“Really!” murmured Edward Henry.

“I’ve got an option to take up the remainder of the lease, with sixty-four years to run, on the condition I put up a theatre.  And the option expires in exactly a fortnight’s time.”

Edward Henry frowned and then asked: 

“What are the figures?”

“That is to say,” Mr. Bryany corrected himself, smiling courteously, “I’ve got half the option.”

“And who’s got the other half?”

“Rose Euclid’s got the other half.”

At the mention of the name of one of the most renowned star-actresses in England, Edward Henry excusably started.

“Not the—?” he exclaimed.

Mr. Bryany nodded proudly, blowing out much smoke.

“Tell me,” asked Edward Henry, confidentially, leaning forward, “where do those ladies get their names from?”

“It happens in this case to be her real name,” said Mr. Bryany.  “Her father kept a tobacconist’s shop in Cheapside.  The sign was kept up for many years, until Rose paid to have it changed.”

“Well, well!” breathed Edward Henry, secretly thrilled by these extraordinary revelations.  “And so you and she have got it between you?”

Mr. Bryany said: 

“I bought half of it from her some time ago.  She was badly hard up for a hundred pounds and I let her have the money.”  He threw away his cigarette half-smoked, with a free gesture that seemed to imply that he was capable of parting with a hundred pounds just as easily.

“How did she get the option?” Edward Henry inquired, putting into the query all the innuendo of a man accustomed to look at great worldly affairs from the inside.

“How did she get it?  She got it from the late Lord Woldo.  She was always very friendly with the late Lord Woldo, you know.”  Edward Henry nodded.  “Why, she and the Countess of Chell are as thick as thieves!  You know something about the Countess down here, I reckon?”

The Countess of Chell was the wife of the supreme local magnate.

Edward Henry answered calmly, “We do.”

He was tempted to relate a unique adventure of his youth, when he had driven the Countess to a public meeting in his mule-carriage, but sheer pride kept him silent.

“I asked you for the figures,” he added, in a manner which requested Mr. Bryany to remember that he was the founder, chairman and proprietor of the Five Towns Universal Thrift Club, one of the most successful business organizations in the Midlands.