“And I’m damned if it’s goin’ to be even once for me!” he went on with sudden insane fury. “_I_ don’t care whether we _’ave_ been pricin’ things in the windows.... _Let_ ’er sue if she likes! She don’t know what reel things mean. _I_ do--I’ve ’ad occasion to notice ’em.... _No_, I tell you! I’ll ’ave ’em when I want ’em, an’ be done with ’em; but not till I see that look on a face ... that look.... I’m not takin’ any. The reel thing’s life an’ death. It _begins_ at death, d’ye see. _She_ can’t understand.... Oh, go on an’ push off to Hell, you an’ your lawyers. I’m fed up with it--fed up!” He stopped as abruptly as he had started, and the drawn face broke back to its natural irresolute lines. Keede, holding both his hands, led him back to the sofa, where he dropped like a wet towel, took out some flamboyant robe from a press, and drew it neatly over him. “Ye-es. _That’s_ the real thing at last,” said Keede. “Now he’s got it off his mind he’ll sleep. By the way, who introduced him?” “Shall I go and find out?” I suggested. “Yes; and you might ask him to come here. There’s no need for us to stand to all night.” So I went to the Banquet which was in full swing, and was seized by an elderly, precise Brother from a South London Lodge who followed me, concerned and apologetic. Keede soon put him at his ease. “The boy’s had trouble,” our visitor explained. “I’m most mortified he should have performed his bad turn here. I thought he’d put it be’ind him.” “I expect talking about old days with me brought it all back,” said Keede. “It does sometimes.” “Maybe! Maybe! But over and above that, Clem’s had post-war trouble, too.” “Can’t he get a job? He oughtn’t to let that weigh on him, at his time of life,” said Keede cheerily. “’Tisn’t that--he’s provided for--but”--he coughed confidentially behind his dry hand--“as a matter of fact, Worshipful Sir, he’s--he’s implicated for the present in a little breach of promise action.” “Ah! That’s a different thing,” said Keede. “Yes. That’s his reel trouble. No reason given, you understand. The young lady in every way suitable, an’ she’d make him a good little wife too, if I’m any judge. But he says she ain’t his ideel or something. ’No getting at what’s in young people’s minds these days, is there?” “I’m afraid there isn’t,” said Keede. “But he’s all right now. He’ll sleep. You sit by him, and when he wakes, take him home quietly.... Oh, we’re used to men getting a little upset here. You’ve nothing to thank us for, Brother--Brother----” “Armine,” said the old gentleman. “He’s my nephew by marriage.” “That’s all that’s wanted!” said Keede. Brother Armine looked a little puzzled. Keede hastened to explain. “As I was saying, all he wants now is to be kept quiet till he wakes.” GOW’S WATCH Act V. Scene 3. _After the Battle. The_ PRINCESS _by the Standard on the Ravelin_. _Enter_ GOW, _with the Crown of the Kingdom_.