‘You haven’t a bad voice, my dear, if you would only take pains with it. Now sing us “For Ever and for Ever.”’ This song being the speaker’s peculiar glory, she was of course requested to sing it herself, and, after entreaty, consented. Her eyes turned upward, her fat figure rolling from side to side, her mouth very wide open, Mrs. Middlemist did full justice to the erotic passion of this great lyric: ‘_Perchawnce if we ‘ad never met, We ‘ad been spared this mad regret, This hendless striving to forget--For hever--hand--for he-e-e-ver!_’ Mrs. Murch let her head droop sentimentally. Horace glanced at Fanny, who, however, seemed absorbed in reflections as unsentimental as could be. In the meanwhile, on a garden seat under the calm but misty sky, sat Luckworth Crewe and Beatrice French. Crewe smoked a cigar placidly; Beatrice was laying before him the suggestion of her great commercial scheme, already confided to Fanny. ‘How does it strike you?’ she asked at length. ‘Not bad, old chap. There’s something in it, if you’re clever enough to carry it through. And I shouldn’t wonder if you are.’ ‘Will you help to set it going?’ ‘Can’t help with money,’ Crewe replied. ‘Very well; will you help in other ways? Practical hints, and so on?’ ‘Of course I will. Always ready to encourage merit in the money-making line. What capital are you prepared to put into it?’ ‘Not much. The public must supply the capital.’ ‘A sound principle,’ Crewe laughed. ‘But I shouldn’t go on the old lines. You didn’t think of starting a limited company? You’d find difficulties. Now what you want to start is a--let us call it the South London Dress Supply Association, or something of that kind. But you won’t get to that all at once. You ought to have premises to begin with.’ ‘I’m aware of it.’ ‘Can you raise a thousand or so?’ ‘Yes, I could--if I chose.’