"I paint it as it must seem to men who have kept the kernel of life between their teeth," he answered carelessly. "To the others--well, one cares little about them. Most men are like cows, they are contented so long as they are fed. To that class I daresay old age may seem something of a rest. But neither you nor I are akin to them." "You talk as you always talked," she said. "Mr. Sabin is very like----" He stopped her. "Mr. Sabin, if you please," he exclaimed. "I am particularly anxious to preserve my incognito just now. Ever since we met yesterday I have been regretting that I did not mention it to you--I do not wish it to be known that I am in England." "Mr. Sabin it shall be, then," she answered; "only if I were you I would have chosen a more musical name." "I wonder--have you by chance spoken of me to your son?" he asked. "It is only by chance that I have not," she admitted. "I have scarcely seen him alone to-day, and he was out last evening. Do you wish to remain Mr. Sabin to him also?" "To him particularly," Mr. Sabin declared; "young men are seldom discreet." Lady Deringham smiled. "Wolfenden is not a gossip," she remarked; "in fact I believe he is generally considered too reserved." "For the present, nevertheless," he said, "let me remain Mr. Sabin to him also. I do not ask you this without a purpose." Lady Deringham bowed her head. This man had a right to ask her more than such slight favours. "You are still," she said, "a man of mystery and incognitos. You are still, I suppose, a plotter of great schemes. In the old days you used to terrify me almost; are you still as daring?" "Alas! no," he answered. "Time is rapidly drawing me towards the great borderland, and when my foot is once planted there I shall carry out my theories and make my bow to the world with the best grace a man may whose life has been one long chorus of disappointments. No! I have retired from the great stage; mine is now only a passive occupation. One returns always, you know, and in a mild way I have returned to the literary ambitions of my youth. It is in connection, by the bye, with this that I arrive at the favour which you so kindly promised to grant me." "If you knew, Victor," she said, "how grateful I feel towards you, you would not hesitate to ask me anything within my power to grant." Mr. Sabin toyed with his stick and gazed steadfastly into the fire. He was pensive for several minutes; then, with the air of a man who suddenly detaches himself from a not unpleasant train of thought, he looked up with a smile.