Beatrice was growing elated.

‘The public has to wait for its benefactors,’ she replied.

’I’ll tell you what, would you like me to sketch you out a prospectus of the Club?’

‘Yes, you might do that if you like.  You won’t expect to be paid?’

‘Hang it! what do you take me for?’

‘Business is business,’ Miss.  French remarked coldly.

‘So it is.  And friendship is friendship.  Got a match?’ He laughed.  ‘No, I suppose you haven’t.’

‘I’ll go and get you one if you like.’

‘There’s a good fellow.  I’ll think in the meantime.’

Beatrice rose lazily, and was absent for several minutes.  When she returned, Crewe re-lit his cigar.

‘Why shouldn’t I start the shop on my own account?’ Beatrice asked.

‘You haven’t capital enough.  A little place wouldn’t do.’

‘I think I can get Fanny to join me.’

‘Can you?  What will young Lord have to say to that?’

’Psh!  That’s all fooling.  It’ll never come to anything.  Unless, of course, the old man turned up his toes, and left the boy a tidy sum.  But he won’t just yet.  I’ve told Fanny that if she’ll raise something on her houses, I’ll guarantee her the same income she has now.’

‘Take my advice,’ said Crewe weightily, ’and hook on to an established business.  Of course, you can change the name if you like; and there’d have to be alterations, and painting up, to give a new look.’

’It’s risky, dealing with strangers.  How if they got hold of my idea, and then refused to take me in?’

’Well now, look here.  After all, I’ll make a bargain with you, old chap.  If I can introduce you to the right people, and get you safely started, will you give me all your advertising, on the usual commission?’

‘You mean, give it to Bullock and Freeman?’

’No, I don’t.  It’s a secret just yet, but I’m going to start for myself.’

Beatrice was silent.  They exchanged a look in the gloom, and Crewe nodded, in confirmation of his announcement.

‘How much have you got?’ Miss.  French inquired carelessly.

‘Not much.  Most of the capital is here.’  He touched his forehead.  ‘Same as with you.’

The young woman glanced at him again, and said in a lower voice: 

‘You’d have had more by now, if—­’

Crewe waited, puffing his cigar, but she did not finish.

‘Maybe,’ he replied impartially.  ‘Maybe not.’

‘Don’t think I’m sorry,’ Beatrice hastened to add.  ’It was an idea, like any other.’

‘Not half a bad idea.  But there were obstacles.’

After a pause, Beatrice inquired: 

‘Do you still think the same about women with money?’