‘Did he happen to mention the date of the month and the time of the day?’ was Mrs. Willoughby’s comment.

’It sounds cold-blooded?  Hardly, if you knew the man.  He looks on life as a sort of draughtboard.  So many definite moves to be made forward upon definite lines.  Then you’re crowned king and can move as you please, backwards if you like, till the end of the game.’

‘He will be crowned king in July?’

‘So I imagine.’

Meanwhile Drake worked on through March and April, outwardly untroubled, but inwardly asking himself ever:  ‘Shall I win?  Shall I win?’ The question besieged him.  Patient he could be, none more so, when the end in view was to be gained by present even though gradual endeavour; but this passive waiting was a lid shut down on him, forcing his energies inwards to prey upon himself.  His impatience, moreover, was increased by the increasing prospects of his undertaking.  Additional reports had been received from his engineer appraising at a still higher value the quality of the land.  He spoke too of a tract of country bordering Drake’s concession on the north, and advised application for it.  Biedermann, besides, had taken up the project warmly.  The company was to come out early in May; there would be few shares open to the public, and the revolution had not taken place.

Why should he wait till July after all?  Drake felt inclined to argue the question one Sunday afternoon in London’s lilac time, as he walked across the green park towards Beaufort Gardens.  He found Miss Le Mesurier alone and in a melancholy mood.  She was singing weariful ballads in an undertone as he entered the room, and she rose dispiritedly to welcome him.

‘It’s seldom one finds you alone,’ he said, and his face showed his satisfaction.

‘I don’t know,’ she replied.  ’It seems to me sometimes that I am always alone, even when people are by,’ and her eyelids drooped.

‘You?’

Clarice’s sincerity was of the artist’s sort implying a sub-consciousness of an audience.  She recognised from the accent upon the you, that her little speech had not failed of its effect.  She continued more cheerfully:  ’Aunt has gone up to Highgate to see some relations, and papa’s asleep in the library.’

‘You were singing.  I hope you won’t stop.’

‘I was only passing the time.’

‘You will make me think I intrude.’

‘I’ll prove to you that you don’t,’ and she went back to the piano.  Drake seated himself at the side of it, facing her and facing the open window.  The window-ledges were ablaze with flowers, and the scent of them poured into the room on a flood of sunshine.