"That murder in the City that you were speaking of just now to Lady May is a serious business for men who walk the streets, as I do sometimes, with money in their pockets," said David Arden, addressing Mr. Longcluse. "So it struck me--one feels that instinctively. When I saw that poor little good-natured fellow dead, and thought how easily I might have walked in there myself, with the assassin behind me, it seemed to me simply the turn of a die that the lot had not fallen upon me," said Longcluse. "He was robbed, too, wasn't he?" croaked Sir Reginald, who was growing tired; and with his fatigue came evidences of his temper. "Oh, yes," said David; "nothing left in his pockets." "And Laroque, a watchmaker, a relation of his, said he had cheques about him, and foreign money," said Longcluse; "but, of course, the cheques were not presented, and foreign money is not easily traced in a big town like London. I made him a present of ten pounds to stake on the game; I could not learn that he did stake it, and I suppose the poor fellow intended applying it in some more prudent way. But my present was in gold, and that, of course, the robber applied without apprehension." "Now, you fellows who have a stake in the City, it is a scandal your permitting such a state of things to continue," said Sir Reginald; "because, though your philanthropy may not be very diffuse, each of you cares most tenderly for one individual at least in the human race--I mean _self_--and whatever you may think of personal morality, and even life--for you don't seem to me to think a great deal of grinding operatives in the cranks of your mills, or blowing them up by bursting steam-boilers, to say nothing of all the people you poison with adulterated food, or with strychnine in beer, or with arsenic in candles, or pretty green papers for bed-rooms--or smash or burn alive on railways--yet you should, on selfish grounds, set your faces against a system of assassination for pocket-books and purses, the sort of things precisely you have always about you. Don't you see? And it's inconsistent besides, because, as I said, although you care little for life--other people's, I mean--in the abstract, yet you care a great deal for property. I think it's your idol, by Jove! and worshipping money--positively _worshipping_ it, as you do, it seems a scandalous inconsistency that you should--of course, I don't mean you two individually," he said, perhaps recollecting that he might be going a little too fast; "you never, of course, fancied _that_. I mean, of course, the class of men we have all heard of, or seen--but I do say, with that sort of adoration for money and property, I can't understand their allowing their pockets to be profaned and their purses made away with." Sir Reginald, having thus delivered himself with considerable asperity, poured some claret into his glass, and pushed the jugs on to his brother, and then, closing his eyes, composed himself either to listen or to sleep.