He paused for a moment, then continued: “I wanted to ask you, Fratten, whether you’ve really settled to go into that Finance Company. Inez told me a couple of evenings ago that she was afraid you had, but I hope that she misunderstood you.” He looked questioningly at his companion. Fratten, being conscious of unspoken criticism, answered brusquely, “Certainly I have. I don’t know why you all make such a fuss about the thing—it’s quite unimportant.” “That it certainly is not, in the sense that it endangers your health. But I am afraid it is no use protesting further. You found the Company sound?” For a second Sir Garth seemed to hesitate, then: “Oh yes, sound, certainly sound—and interesting,” he added with a peculiar smile. “Exactly,” said Hessel, “and you will throw yourself into it with all your strength and wear yourself out.” “Nonsense, Leo; don’t be so fussy. Look here, I want to talk to you about Ryland; I want your advice.” For a few paces Hessel walked on, without seeming to attend to what his friend was saying; then he evidently wrenched his mind back from its wanderings. “Ryland?” he said. “Not another scrape, I hope?” The banker frowned. “Scrape is hardly adequate,” he said. “The young fool has got himself engaged to some chorus girl and now—as usual—he’s had enough of her and wants to break it off—naturally she wants money. He wrote to me the other day asking for money—I found his letter when I got back from the Hospital Board the day I had that shock. I sent for him and we had an almighty row—both lost control of ourselves, I’m afraid. I’m rather ashamed of that, but what shocks me so much is that he should have said the things he did. He’d got some queer ideas in his head about entail—he spoke in the most callous and unfeeling way. I was hurt, Leo—deeply hurt. I thought that, at bottom, he was really fond of me.” “So he is, Fratten, so he is, of course,” interjected Hessel. “You said yourself that you both lost your tempers—one says all sorts of things that one doesn’t mean when one loses one’s temper—then one’s sorry for them and probably one’s too stupid or sensitive to say so. Ryland’s all right really, I’m sure he is—a young ass about women, of course, but his heart’s all right.” Fratten sighed. “I hope you’re right,” he said. “My God, what a heavenly evening—what a view!”