"Well, anyway, you look very fit. Very fit indeed. Frightfully fit. Remarkably fit. Extraordinarily fit." He paused. This was getting him nowhere. He decided to leap straight to the point at issue. To put his fortune to the test, to win or lose it all. "I say, Uncle Lester, what I really came about this afternoon was a matter of business." "Indeed? I supposed you had come merely to babble. What business?" "You know a friend of mine named Fish?" "I do not know a friend of yours named Fish." "Well, he's a friend of mine. His name's Fish. Ronnie Fish." "What about him?" "He's starting a new night club." "I don't care," said Mr. Carmody, who did not. "It's just off Bond Street, in the heart of London's pleasure-seeking area. He's calling it the Hot Spot." The only comment Mr. Carmody vouchsafed on this piece of information was a noise like another buffalo. His face was beginning to lose its vermilion tinge, and it seemed possible that in a few moments he might come off the boil. "I had a letter from him this morning. He says he will give me a half share if I put up five hundred quid." "Then you won't get a half share," predicted Mr. Carmody. "But I've got five hundred. I mean to say, you're holding a lot more than that in trust for me." "Holding," said Mr. Carmody, "is the right word." "But surely you'll let me have this quite trivial sum for a really excellent business venture that simply can't fail? Ronnie knows all about night clubs. He's practically lived in them since he came down from Cambridge." "I shall not give you a penny. Have you no conception of the duties of a trustee? Trust money has to be invested in gilt-edged securities." "You'll never find a gilter-edged security than a night club run by Ronnie Fish." "If you have finished this nonsense I will go and take my shower bath." "Well, look here, Uncle, may I invite Ronnie to Rudge, so that you can have a talk with him?" "You may not. I have no desire to talk with him." "You'd like Ronnie. He has an aunt in the looney-bin." "Do you consider that a recommendation?" "No, I just mentioned it." "Well, I refuse to have him at Rudge." "But listen, Uncle. The vicar will be round any day now to get me to perform at the village concert. If Ronnie were on the spot, he and I could do the Quarrel Scene from _Julius Cæsar_ and really give the customers something for their money." Even this added inducement did not soften Mr. Carmody. "I will not invite your friends to Rudge."