Thus under all Agatha's affection there ran the general hostility of London. Guilty or not, I had offended her in her most deeply rooted susceptibilities, and as yet she only knew half the imbroglio in which I was enmeshed. Over coffee, however, she began to take a more optimistic view of affairs. “After all, you'll be able to live it down,” she said with a cheerful air of patronage. “People soon forget. Before the year is out you'll be going about just as usual, and at the General Election you'll find a seat somewhere.” I informed her that I had given up politics. What then, she asked, would I do for an occupation? “Work for my living,” I replied. “Work?” She arched her eyebrows, as if it were the most extraordinary thing a man could do. “What kind of work?” “Road-sweeping or tax-collecting or envelope-addressing.” She selected a cigarette from the silver box in front of her, and did not reply until she had lit it and inhaled a puff or two. “I wish you wouldn't be so flippant, Simon.” From this remark I inferred that I still was in the criminal dock before this lady Chief Justice. I smiled at the airs the little woman gave herself now that I was no longer the impeccable and irreproachable dictator of the family. Mine was the experience of every fallen tyrant since the world began. “My dear Agatha, I've had enough shocks during the last few weeks to knock the flippancy out of a Congregational minister. In November I was condemned to die within six months. The sentence was final and absolute. I thought I would do the kind of good one can't do with a lifetime in front of one, and I wasted all my substance in riotous giving. In the elegant phraseology of high society I am stone-broke. As my training has not fitted me to earn my living in high-falutin ways, I must earn it in some humble capacity. Therefore, if you see me call at your house for the water rate, you'll understand that I am driven to that expedient by necessity and not by degradation.” Naturally I had to elaborate this succinct statement before my sister could understand its full significance. Then dismay overwhelmed her. Surely something could be done. The fortunes of Jane and herself were at my disposal to set me on my feet again. We were brother and sisters; what was theirs was mine; they couldn't see me starve. I thanked her for her affection--the dear creatures would unhesitatingly have let me play ducks and drakes with their money, but I explained that though poor, I was still proud and prized the independence of the tax-collector above the position of the pensioner of Love's bounty. “Tom must get you something to do,” she declared. “Tom must do nothing of the kind. Let me say that once and for all,” I returned peremptorily. “I've made my position clear to you, because you're my sister and you ought to be spared any further misinterpretation of my actions. But to have you dear people intriguing after billets for me would be intolerable.”