“What we want is stability, old boy.  We want to be left alone.  We’re being governed to death.  Social reform is all right.  I believe in it, but everything depends on the pace.  Change there ought to be, but it mustn’t be like a transformation scene in a pantomime.”

And so on.

Mr. Prohack was familiar with it all.  He expected the culminating part of the exposition.  But Sir Paul curved off towards the navy and the need of conserving in British hands a more than adequate gush of oil for the navy.  Mr. Prohack wished that Sir Paul could have left out the navy.  And then the Empire was reached.  Mr. Prohack wished that Sir Paul could have left out the Empire.  Finally Sir Paul arrived at the point.

“I’ve realised all I can in reason and I’m eighty thousand short.  Of course I can get it, get it easily, but not without giving away a good part of my show in quarters that I should prefer to keep quite in the dark.  I thought of you—­you’re clean outside all that sort of thing, and also I know you’d lie low.  You might make a hundred per cent; you might make two hundred per cent.  But I’ll guarantee you this—­you won’t lose, whatever happens.  Of course your capital may not be liquid.  You mayn’t be able to get at it.  I don’t know.  But I thought it was just worth mentioning to you, and so I said to myself I’d look in here on my way to the City.”

Sir Paul Spinner touting for a miserable eighty thousand pounds!

“Hanged if I know how my capital is!” said Mr. Prohack.

“I suppose your lawyer knows.  Smathe, isn’t it?...  I heard so.”

“How soon do you want an answer, yes or no?” Mr. Prohack asked, with a feeling that he had his back to the wall and old Paul had a gun.

“I don’t want an answer now, anyhow, old boy.  You must think it over.  You see, once we’ve got the thing, I shall set the two big groups bidding against each other for it, and we shall see some fun.  And I wouldn’t ask them for cash payments.  Only for payment in their own shares—­which are worth more than money.”

“Want an answer to-morrow?”

“Could you make it to-night?” Sir Paul surprisingly answered.  “And assuming you say yes—­I only say assuming—­couldn’t you run down with me to Smathe’s now and find out about your capital?  That wouldn’t bind you in any way.  I’m particularly anxious you should think it over very carefully.  And, by the way, better keep these papers to refer to.  But if you can’t get at your capital, no use troubling further.  That’s the first thing to find out.”

“I can’t go to Smathe’s now,” Mr. Prohack stammered.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m going out with my wife in the car.”

“But, my dear old boy, it’s a big thing, and it’s urgent.”

“Yes, I quite see that.  But I’ve got to go with Marian.  I’ll tell you what I can do.  I’ll telephone Smathe that you’re coming down to see him yourself, and he must tell you everything.  That’ll be best.  Then I’ll let you know my decision later.”