"Badly, sir, badly since you booked me. I mentioned to you, sir, that I trusted my little business would for a while go on by its own momentum. It has, sir, it has, but the momentum has been downhill. I can't control it. I have not the personality to do so, to serve as a drag, to urge it upwards. I am in daily expectation, sir, of a regular smash up." "I am sorry to hear this," said Leveridge. "But I think I have found a means of putting all to rights. Presto!" He waved his hand and the imaginary character of the stockbroker had actualised himself in the body of Mr. Box. "I see how to do it. By ginger, I do!" exclaimed the grocer, a spark coming into his eye. "I'll run my little concern on quite other lines. And look ye here, Mr. Leveridge. I bet you my bottom dollar that I'll run it to a tremendous success, become a second Lipton, and keep a yacht." As Mr. Box bounced out of the room and proceeded to run downstairs, he ran against and nearly knocked over Mrs. Baker; the lady was whispering to and coquetting with Mr. Wotherspoon, who was on the landing. That gentleman, in his condition of lack of individuality, was like a teetotum spun in the hands of the designing Mrs. Baker, who put forth all the witchery she possessed, or supposed that she possessed, to entangle him in an amorous intrigue. "Come in," shouted Joseph Leveridge, and Mr. Wotherspoon, looking hot and frightened and very shy, tottered in and sank into a chair. He was too much shaken and perturbed by the advances of Mrs. Baker to be able to speak. "There," said Joseph, addressing his hero. "You cannot do better than animate that feeble creature. Go!" Instantly Mr. Wotherspoon sprang to his feet. "By George!" said he. "I wonder that never struck me before. I'll at once volunteer to go out to South Africa, and have a shot at those canting, lying, treacherous Boers. If I come back with a score of their scalps at my waist, I shall have deserved well of my country. I will volunteer at once. But--I say, Leveridge--clear that hulking, fat old landlady out of the way. She blocks the stairs, and I can't kick down a woman." When Mr. Wotherspoon was gone--"Well," said Poppy, "what have you got for me?" "If you will come with me, Poppy dear, I will serve you as well as the rest." "I hope better than you did that odious little widow. But she is well paid out." "Follow me to the riverside," said Joseph; "at 8.33 p.m. I am due there, and so is another--a lady." "And pray why did you not make her come here instead of lugging me all the way down there?" "Because I could not make an appointment with a young lady in my bachelor's apartments." "That's all very fine. But I am there." "Yes, you--but you are only an imaginary character, and she is a substantial reality." "I think I had better accompany you," said Lady Mabel. "I think not. If your ladyship will kindly occupy my fauteuil till I return, that chair will ever after be sacred to me. Come along, Poppy." "I'm game," said she.