"Ah!" and after a moment: "What then?" Tietjens said: "God knows . . . There's that poor little beggar to be considered. Marchant says he's beginning to talk broad Yorkshire already." Macmaster said: "If it wasn't for that. . . . That would be a solution." Tietjens said: "Ah!" When he paid the cabman, in front of a grey cement portal with a gabled arch, reaching up, he said: "You've been giving the mare less licorice in her mash. I told you she'd go better." The cabman, with a scarlet, varnished face, a shiny hat, a drab box-cloth coat and a gardenia in his buttonhole, said: "Ah! Trust you to remember, sir." In the train, from beneath his pile of polished dressing and despatch cases--Tietjens had thrown his immense kit-bag with his own hands into the guard's van--Macmaster looked across at his friend. It was, for him, a great day. Across his face were the proof-sheets of his first, small, delicate-looking volume. . . . A small page, the type black and still odorous! He had the agreeable smell of the printer's ink in his nostrils; the fresh paper was still a little damp. In his white, rather spatulate, always slightly cold fingers, was the pressure of the small, flat, gold pencil he had purchased especially for these corrections. He had found none to make. He had expected a wallowing of pleasure--almost the only sensuous pleasure he had allowed himself for many months. Keeping up the appearances of an English gentleman on an exiguous income was no mean task. But to wallow in your own phrases, to be rejoiced by the savour of your own shrewd pawkinesses, to feel your rhythm balanced and yet sober--that is a pleasure beyond most, and an inexpensive one at that. He had had it from mere "articles"--on the philosophies and domestic lives of such great figures as Carlyle and Mill, or on the expansion of inter-colonial trade. This was a book. He relied upon it to consolidate his position. In the office they were mostly "born," and not vastly sympathetic. There was a sprinkling, too--it was beginning to be a large one--of young men who had obtained their entry by merit or by sheer industry. These watched promotions jealously, discerning nepotic increases of increment and clamouring amongst themselves at favouritisms.