He had found in Southampton Street, Camberwell, on the previous day (being on the Surrey side round), a painted board on a house announcing here, “Elocution and Public Speaking Taught! Pupils prepared for the Dramatic Stage! Apply within to Professor Danks!” and it then occurred to him that this was the address given him by the footman in Eaton Square. The front garden was filled with monumental statues belonging to an undertaker next door, and engraved with names and dates, tombstones which for some inexplicable reason had not been used. He had gone up the uneven pavement from the front gate to the door and had knocked there, but the door being opened by the tall, bright-eyed girl, plainly and economically dressed, and with a suggestion of care near to her bright eyes, he had for some extraordinary reason, muttered “Beg pardon. Wrong number!” and had stumbled back to the gate, hot-faced with confusion. He knew that his powers of speech lacked refinement, and one or two finishing lessons would work miracles: he might perhaps learn how to aspirate without the show of pain and anxiety that he exhibited now when he endeavoured to observe the trying rule. The bright-eyed girl, he remembered, had stood at the doorway looking after him rather reproachfully. “Of course,” said the injured voice of Spanswick, “if it’s too much trouble for you to listen, why it isn’t any use me talking.” “Sorry,” he said absently. “Fact is, I don’t take very much interest in gardening.” “I was talking about poultry.” “They both come under the same head,” remarked Erb. “I suppose, as a matter of fact, you’re pretty keen on this ’ere job?” “They’re a long time deciding,” said Erb. “I’ve been expectin’,” Spanswick made circles on the landing with his right foot in a hesitating way, “I’ve been expectin’ that you’d approach me and ask me to withdraw from the contest.” “What’d be the use of that?” “Well,” said Spanswick in a mysterious whisper, “you know what Shakespeare says?” “He said a lot.” “You’re a mere kid in these matters,” remarked the other contemptuously, walking away to the other end of the landing. “Haven’t you never ’eard of buying off the opposition? In the present case, suppose you was to say, ‘Spanny, old man, is twen’y-five bob any use to you?’ and I should answer ‘Well, I could do with it,’ and you paid the money over ’ere.” Spanswick held out one hand. “And I said, ‘Well, now, come to think of it, what’s the good of this job to me? I shan’t make nothing out of it, unless it is a silver teapot for the missus; I’ll withdraw my nomination and leave you a clear field.’ See?” “Upon my word,” exclaimed Erb indignantly, “upon my word if you ain’t the biggest—” “Mind you,” interrupted the other, “I was only putting a suppositious case.” The door of the club room opened, and a voice said importantly, “Spanswick and Barnes, this way, please.” They turned to obey. “There y’are,” said Spanswick reproachfully, “you’ve left it too late.”