And then somebody came bothering and nearly spoiling all.  It’s odd, but I really forget exactly what it was.  I only know there was a funeral, and people were sobbing and looking at me, and somebody said I was callous, but somebody else said, “No, look at him,” and that it was just the other way about.  And I think I remember, now, that it wasn’t in London, for I was in a train; but after the funeral I dodged them, and found myself back at Euston again.  They followed me, but I shook them off.  I locked my own studio up, and lay as quiet as a mouse in Benlian’s place when they came hammering at the door....

* * * * *

And now I must come to what you’ll called the finish—­though it’s awfully stupid to call things like that “finishes.”

I’d slipped into my own studio one night—­I forget what for; and I’d gone quietly, for I knew they were following me, those people, and would catch me if they could.  It was a thick, misty night, and the light came streaming up through Benlian’s roof window, with the shadows of the window-divisions losing themselves like dark rays in the fog.  A lot of hooting was going on down the river, steamers and barges....  Oh, I know what I’d come into my studio for!  It was for those negatives.  Benlian wanted them for the diary, so that it could be seen there wasn’t any fake about the prints.  For he’d said he would make a final spurt that evening and get the job finished.  It had taken a long time, but I’ll bet you couldn’t have passed yourself any quicker.

When I got back he was sitting in the chair he’d hardly left for weeks, and the diary was on the table by his side.  I’d taken all the scaffolding down from the statue, and he was ready to begin.  He had to waste one last bit of strength to explain to me, but I drew as close as I could, so that he wouldn’t lose much.

“Now, Pudgie,” I just heard him say, “you’ve behaved splendidly, and you’ll be quite still up to the finish, won’t you?”

I nodded.

“And you mustn’t expect the statue to come down and walk about, or anything like that,” he continued. “Those aren’t the really wonderful things.  And no doubt people will tell you it hasn’t changed; but you’ll know better!  It’s much more wonderful that I should be there than that they should be able to prove it, isn’t it?...  And, of course, I don’t know exactly how it will happen, for I’ve never done this before....  You have the letter for the S.P.R.?  They can photograph it if they want....  By the way, you don’t think the same of my statue as you did at first, do you?”

“Oh, it’s wonderful!” I breathed.

“And even if, like the God of the others, it doesn’t vouchsafe a special sign and wonder, it’s Benlian, for all that?”

“Oh, do be quick, Benlian!  I can’t bear another minute!”

Then, for the last time, he turned his great eaten-out eyes on me.