why had he, so unrighteous himself, not made friends to himself of the Mammon of unrighteousness?  Why had he not conciliated Lord Mayors?  Why had he trod upon all the corns of all his neighbours?  Why had he been insolent at the India Office?  Why had he trusted any man as he had trusted Cohenlupe?  Why had he not stuck to Abchurch Lane instead of going into Parliament?  Why had he called down unnecessary notice on his head by entertaining the Emperor of China?  It was too late now, and he must bear it; but these were the things that had ruined him.

He walked into Palace Yard and across it, to the door of Westminster Abbey, before he found out that Parliament was not sitting.  ’Oh, Wednesday!  Of course it is,’ he said, turning round and...