"Sam is not singular," put in Mr. Aston, in his meditative way, "character is all more or less a question of degree. There are the same fundamental instincts in all of us. Some get developed at the expense of others, that's all." "There but for the grace of God goes ..." said Patricia, laughing. Christopher felt in his pocket and produced a coin. "Apropos of which, Caesar," he said with a flicker of a smile, "I found this, the other day rummaging in an old box." He tossed it dexterously to Caesar. It was a sovereign with a hole in it and the broken link of a chain therein. Caesar looked at it and then slipped it in his own pocket. "It's mine, at all events," he said shortly, "and we are all talking nonsense, especially Christopher." But Christopher shook his head. "Mayn't I understand all this?" demanded Patricia. "No," returned Caesar, before Christopher could speak. "It's not worth it. John Bunyan was a fool." "Not at all, but the other man might have retorted, 'there with the grace of God goes I.'" This was from Mr. Aston, and Christopher gave him a quick look of comprehension. "The Court is with you, sir," said Aymer languidly. "Let us discuss wedding presents." CHAPTER XXXII At eleven o'clock on Wednesday, Mr. Aston and Christopher were ushered into Mr. Saunderson's office by a discreetly interested clerk. The bland and smiling lawyer advanced to meet them with that respect and courtesy he felt due to the vast fortune they represented. His table was covered with orderly rows of papers, and the door of the safe, labeled P. Masters, Esq., stood open. "Punctuality is the essence of good business," said Mr. Saunderson, with effusive approval as he indicated two lordly armchairs placed ready for his visitors. Mr. Aston and Christopher had both a dim, unreasonable consciousness of dental trouble and exchanged glances of mutual encouragement. Mr. Saunderson blinked at them genially behind his gold-rimmed glasses and spoke of the weather, which was bad, dilated on the state of the streets, lamented the slowness of the L. C. C. to enforce the use of Patrimondi beyond the limits of Westminster, and as the futile little remarks trickled on they carried with them his complacent smile, for in every quiet response he read Christopher Masters' fatal determination, and prepared himself for battle. It was Christopher, however, who flung down the gauntlet. He answered the question anent the use of Patrimondi in the metropolis, and then said directly: "Mr. Saunderson, I've considered the matter of this fortune you tell me I've inherited, and I do not feel under any obligation to accept it or its responsibilities. It's only fair to let you know this at once." Mr. Saunderson leant back in his chair and rubbed his chin, and his eyes wandered from one to the other of his visitors thoughtfully.