"I would not; neither would I have you not do so, if you take my meaning." "I see," I said bitterly. "In plain words you are indifferent to my fate." He smiled slightly and reached for a match to re-light his pipe. My blood was up. I would not be defied by this man; at least, not completely. "Very well," I said coldly, "I will leave my cheque for ten pounds with you and take only a couple on account." "I couldn't do that either." "Well, a pound will have to do then." "No." "Then," I said in despair, "we come to the ridiculously small amount of eighteenpence. Ha, ha!" "And that," he answered, "would be equally objectionable." I started. "Come," I said, "you are human after all. You can quote at random from DICKENS. You read him?" "I do. When not engaged in business pursuits." He looked anxiously at the clock. "Who was _Mrs. Chickenstalker_?" I asked sternly. "She kept a shop. In _The Haunted Man_." "Whom did _Mr. Wopsle_ marry?" "Nobody. But hadn't you better see about your watch?" "Not yet. How many glasses of punch did _Mr. Pickwick_ drink on One Tree Hill?" "Depends on how you count them. I make it eight." "Correct. Look here--have you thought about the bagman's story--the first one? He says it is eighty years since the events he relates took place, and that would carry it back to 1747. And yet the traveller damns his straps and whiskers. Why, if he'd worn strapped trousers and whiskers in those days he'd have had a mob after him." "Yes, and he wouldn't have been driving a gig on Marlborough downs. He'd have been riding with pistols in his holsters, wrapped in a horseman's cloak and wearing a plain bobwig. I've thought of that too." "I see you have. But there's another--" "Let me. Can you account for this? _Martin Chuzzlewit_ left _Mr. Pecksniff's_ house in the late autumn--say the last of November to be on the safe side. He stays five weeks in London and then goes to America--say another five weeks. Then, after a week in _Major Pawkins_' boarding-house, he goes to a place which is identified as the original site of Cairo, Illinois--say another week. This would land him there at the end of February, when everything is frozen stiff. But they travelled down the river in a heat that blistered everything it touched." "No," I said jealously, "I have not thought of that. Wonderful, isn't it, how one likes to catch DICKENS in a mistake? Like having a joke on a good old friend." "Exactly," he said ardently, "I wish I had more time--" "If you're free this evening come and dine with me at the 'Bull.' At about eight, if you can." "I'd like to very much. Thanks. I'll come." "I've thought of two more," I said; "but I'll go now, as you must be busy, so good-bye for the present. A bit before eight." "I'll be there. I am rather busy just now. Good morning." He rang the bell. "Oh, Mr. Jounce," he said to the underling who appeared, "will you please cash this gentleman's cheque?" * * * * *