Quinney blinked at him, wondering why he answered evasively. How did he know that the key fitted loosely? It was not his business to touch the cabinet. At the same time he was conscious that James, as the restorer of the chairs, had been very prompt with his congratulations. Of course he knew everything; he had to know; and equally of course the secret of the fake bidding was perfectly safe with him, inasmuch as he had received a share of the plunder. Quinney had raised his salary; Tomlin had tipped him handsomely. "Nice profit for you, sir," continued James blandly. "Not bad," Quinney admitted. "Splendid idea, sir, buying in your own stuff." Quinney rather winced at this, but he covered a slight confusion by his bluff manner and candid speech. He could not flimflam James. It would be fatuous to play the hypocrite with an accomplice. He said confidentially: "Christopher’s receipt just clinched matters. You ought to have been here, my lad. An object lesson for you, by Gum!" James’s voice was very silky as he murmured: "Nobody like you, sir, to sell stuff." "Right you are, James, even if I do say it. There ain’t my superior in London—that means the world." It was then that James led trumps for the first time. He continued in the same ingratiating tone: "Oh yes, sir. And such a father, too." Quinney swallowed this easily, smacked his lips over it, much to James’s satisfaction. "Always done my duty, my lad. That’s a thought to stick to one’s ribs—hey? Never can remember the day when I couldn’t say that. And the fam’ly, as I read only t’other day, is the unit o’ national life. Square, too, I’ve been, within reasonable limits, although I do make ignorance pay a profit to knowledge. I know a lot, more’n you think for. And you owe a lot to me, James." "Yes, sir." "You’re very useful to me, my lad, and your future will be my special care." James smiled. "Thank you, sir." Afterwards, Quinney admitted to Susan that at this particular moment James’s good looks had hit him, so to speak, in the eye. But he did not consider them in relation to Posy. We know that the little man was amazingly shrewd whenever his own interests were imperilled. And it had occurred to him, not for the first time, that there might be "something" between his handsome foreman and his quite attractive typist. He could trust James. Could he trust Mabel Dredge? Some men babbled indiscreetly to the girls. "You’ll be thinking of gettin’ married one of these fine days?" "I have thought of it, sir." The young man spoke so pleasantly that Quinney’s heart warmed to him. Moreover, he liked and respected Mabel. "Good! What you want is a helpmate, a worker like yourself, strong, healthy, and comely." "Strong, healthy, and comely," repeated James.