“I fear you do not catch my meaning,” returned Mr. Lavender, whose whole body was aching from his fall; “it is my public life which tries me.” “Well, then, I should chuck it,” said the policeman. “Really?” murmured Mr. Lavender eagerly, “would you?” “Why not?” said the policeman. So excited was Mr. Lavender by this independent confirmation of his sudden longing that he took out half a crown. “You will oblige me greatly,” he said, “by accepting this as a token of my gratitude.” “Well, sir, I'll humour you,” answered the policeman; “though it was no trouble, I'm sure; you're as light as a feather. Goin' anywhere in particular?” he added. “Yes,” said Mr. Lavender, rather faintly, “the Tube Station.” “Come along with me, then.” Mr. Lavender went along, not sorry to have the protection of that stalwart form, for his nerve was shaken, not so much by physical suffering as by the revelation he had received. “If you'll take my tip, sir,” said the policeman, parting from him, “you won't try no private life again; you don't look strong.” “Thank you, policeman,” said Mr. Lavender musingly; “it is kind of you to take an interest in me. Good-bye!” Safely seated in the Tube for Hampstead he continued the painful struggle of his meditations. “If, indeed,” he thought, “as a public man I do more harm than good, I am prepared to sacrifice all for my country's sake and retire into private life. But the policeman said that would be dangerous for me. What, then, is left? To live neither a public nor a private life!” This thought, at once painful and heroic, began to take such hold of him that he arrived at his house in a high fever of the brain. XXI AND ASCENDS TO PARADISE Now when Mr. Lavender once slept over an idea it became so strong that no power on earth could prevent his putting it into execution, and all night long he kept Blink awake by tramping up and down his bedroom and planning the details of such a retirement as would meet his unfortunate case. For at once he perceived that to retire from both his lives without making the whole world know of it would be tantamount to not retiring. “Only by a public act,” he thought, “of so striking a character that nobody can miss it can I bring the moral home to all public and private men.” And a hundred schemes swarmed like ants in his brain. Nor was it till the cock crew that one adequate to this final occasion occurred to him.