It was on the way, though. This was the news that Quisante, in the interval between his return from electioneering and the meeting of Parliament, brought back day by day from his excursions to the City and his conversations with Mandeville. He was careful to explain to his wife that he was no "guinea-pig," that he did not approve of the animal, and would never use his position to pick up gain in that way. But he had leisure--at least he could make time--and some of it he proposed to devote to starting a really legitimate and highly lucrative undertaking. The Alethea Printing Press was to revolutionise a great many things besides the condition of Quisante's finances; it was not an ordinary speculative company. Marchmont's phrase came in here, and May used it neatly and graciously. Quisante, much encouraged, plunged into an account of the great invention; if only it worked as it was certain to work, there was not one fortune but many fortunes in it. "And it will work?" she asked. "If we can get the capital," he answered with a confident air. "I shall try to interest all my friends in it," he went on. "You can help me there." May looked doubtful, and Quisante grew more eloquent. At last he held up a sheaf of papers, saying triumphantly, "Here are favourable reports from all the leading experts. We shall have an array of them in the prospectus. Of course they're absolutely impartial, and they really leave no room for doubt." He held them out to her, but she leant back with her hands in her lap. "I shouldn't understand them," she protested. "But they all agree, do they?" "Yes, all," he said emphatically. "Well, all except one." His brow wrinkled a little. "Mandeville insisted on having an opinion from Professor Maturin. I was against it. Maturin's absurdly pessimistic." "He's a great man, isn't he?" "Oh, yes, I suppose so,--he's got a great reputation anyhow." "And he's against you?" "The fact is that his is only--only a draft report. So far as it goes, it's not encouraging, but he's never had the facts really laid before him." "You'd better go and lay them before him," she said very gravely. Quisante caught eagerly at the suggestion. "Exactly what I proposed to Mandeville!" he cried. "The prospectus won't be out for nearly a month yet, and I shall go and see Maturin. I know----" He rose and began to walk about. "I know Maturin is wrong, and I know that I can show him he's wrong. I only want an hour with him to bring him round to my view, to the true view." "Well, why haven't you been to see him?" "I tried to go, but he's ill and not equal to business. As soon as he gets better I shall go. To put his report in as it stands would not only do us infinite harm--in fact we couldn't think of it--but it wouldn't be just to him." "But if he won't change his opinion?" "Oh, he must, he will. I tell you it's as plain as a pikestaff, when once it's properly explained."