’Well, old man, to tell you the truth, —­ I can do it now, —­ for me it means a jump out of a particularly black hole.  You must understand that we’re not doing downright badly; we pay our way, but that was about all.  I, individually, shouldn’t have paid my way for many months longer.  God! how I clutched at it!  You don’t know what it is, Rolfe, to see your damned account at the bank slithering away, and not a cent to pay in.  I’ve thought of all sorts of things —­ just stopping short of burglary, and I shouldn’t have stopped at that long.’

’You mean that this new capital will give such a push to the business ——­’

’Of course!  It was just what we wanted.  We couldn’t advertise —­ couldn’t buy a new patent —­ couldn’t move at all.  Now we shall make things hum.’

‘Does Redgrave become a partner, then?’

’A sleeping partner.  But Redgrave is wide enough awake.  Mackintosh says he never met a keener man of business.  You wouldn’t have thought it, would you?  I should fancy he manages all his own property, and does it devilish well, too.  Of course, he has all sorts of ways of helping us on.  He’s got ideas of his own, too, about the machines; I shouldn’t wonder if he hits on something valuable.  I never half understood him before.  He doesn’t shoot much, but knows enough about it to make pleasant talk.  And he has travelled a good deal.  Then, of course, he goes in for art, music —­ all that sort of thing.  There’s really no humbug about him.  He’s neither prig nor cad, though I used to think him a little of both.’

Harvey reflected; revived his mental image of the capitalist, and still found it very unlike the picture suggested by Hugh.

‘Who is Redgrave?’ he asked.  ‘How did he get his money?’

’I know nothing about that.  I don’t think he’s a university man.  He hinted once that he was educated abroad.  Seems to know plenty of good people.  Mrs. Fenimore, his sister, lives at Wimbledon.  Sibyl and I were over there not long ago, dining; one or two titled people, a parson, and so on; devilish respectable, but dull —­ the kind of company that makes me want to stand up and yell.  Redgrave has built himself what he calls a bungalow, somewhere near the house; but I didn’t see it.’

‘You’re a good deal at Coventry?’ asked Rolfe.

’Off and on.  Just been down for ten days.  If it were possible, I should go steadily at the business.  I used to think I couldn’t fit into work of that sort, but a man never knows what he can do till he tries.  I can’t stand doing nothing; that floors me.  I smoke too much, and drink too much, and get quarrelsome, and wish I was on the other side of the world.  But it’s out of the question to live down yonder; I couldn’t ask Sibyl to do it.’

‘Do you leave her quite alone, then?’

Carnaby made an uneasy movement.