Most of the men went downstairs, and in the bar discussed the tumultuous event with hushed voices, that outsiders might not share the knowledge; they were not quite certain whether to be proud of the incident or ashamed. Erb told off two men to take his damaged advocate to a chemist’s, and, giving no answer to inquiries concerning his intentions, went out, and walked up and down Grange Road alone. He saw the whole case clearly; admitted that his popularity had received a shock; recognised the true inwardness of Spanswick’s intervention, and foresaw the difficulties that would obstruct his path if he should lose his position. Not seeing Rosalind this evening was, he now felt, an augury of bad luck; he would be glad when the night was over and done with. “This ain’t my birthday,” said Erb grimly. All the same, something had to be done. Individual men one could deal with, but with men in a lump you could only safely count on their unreliability. Erb stopped at a furniture shop and tried to guess the identity of a young man with hat tipped back and forehead creased with thought; the face looked familiar, and it was only on approaching that he discovered it was his own reflection in a long mirror marked in chalk, “A Rare Bargain. Late the Property of a Club.” He laughed and went back. “I don’t want to make a speech,” he said quietly. The room had refilled, members conducting themselves with a studied decorum almost painful to behold; the smoke had escaped by the open windows, and it was possible to see everything clearly. “It appears that there’s some dissatisfaction.” “No, no!” said voices. “There’s some dissatisfaction,” repeated Erb determinedly, “and it doesn’t really matter much whether it’s grounded or not. No society can go on like this with success under these circumstances. I started this society—” “Earear!” “And I tell you candidly, I feel much more interested in the prosperity of this society than I do in the prosperity of myself. I’m a single man, I regret to— I mean to say I’m a single man, and as a single man, I can find something else to do.” Members looked at each other with concern. “That is why, Mr. Chairman, I address myself to you, because you’re an old friend and a—and a good sort.” Payne blinked at the compliment. “And I hand to you, old chum, this letter that I’ve just written out, which contains—” The room leaned forward to listen. “Contains my resignation.” Erb sat down. A murmur started slowly near the Chairman and went down the table, increased its pace and its volume, and came back to Erb in the condition of an angry remonstrance. Half a dozen men rose. “I give notice,” said Spanswick, “that at the next meeting I shall move the appointment of a new secretary.”