'If there were such a thing as being poor and unsuccessful,' he remarked with something that was almost a wink in his eye (Trix took it to deprecate interruption), 'it would probably be very unpleasant. Of course, however, it does not exist. The impression to the contrary is an instance of what I will call the Fallacy of Broad Views. We are always taking broad views of our neighbours' lives; then we call them names. Happily we very seldom need to take them of our own.' He paused, looked round the silent table, and observed gravely, 'This is very unusual.' Only a laugh from Peggy, who would have laughed at anything, broke the stillness. He resumed:-- 'You call a man poor, meaning thereby that he has little money by the year. Ladies and gentlemen, we do not feel in years, we are not hungry _per annum_. You call him unsuccessful because a number of years leave him much where he was in most things. It may well be a triumph!' He paused and asked, 'Shall I proceed?' 'If you have another and quite different idea,' said Arty Kane. 'Well, then, that Homogeneity of Fortune is undesirable among friends.' 'Trite and obvious,' said Manson Smith. 'It excludes the opportunity of lending fivers.' 'I shall talk no more,' said Childwick. 'If we all spoke plain English originality would become impossible.' The end of the evening came earlier than usual. Peggy was going to a party or two. She had her hansom waiting to convey her. It had, it appeared, been waiting all through dinner. With her departure the rest melted away. Trix Trevalla, again reluctant to go, at last found herself alone with Airey Newton, Tommy having gone out to look for her carriage. The waiter brought the bill and laid it down beside Airey. 'Is it good luck or bad luck for Peggy?' she asked reflectively. 'For Peggy it is good luck; she has instincts that save her. But she'll be very poor again.' He came back to that idea persistently. 'She'll marry somebody and be rich.' A sudden thought came and made her ask Airey, 'Would you marry for money?' He thought long, taking no notice of the bill beside him. 'No,' he said at last, 'I shouldn't care about money I hadn't made.' 'A funny reason for the orthodox conclusion!' she laughed. 'What does it matter who made it as long as you have it?' Airey shook his head in an obstinate way. Tommy Trent, just entering the doorway, saw him lay down three or four notes; he did not look at the bill. The waiter with a smile gave him back one, saying '_Pardon, monsieur!_' and pointing to the amount of the account. Tommy stood where he was, looking on still. 'Well, I must go,' said Trix, rising. 'You've given us a great deal of pleasure; I hope you've enjoyed it yourself!' The waiter brought back the bill and the change. Airey scooped up the change carelessly, and gave back a sovereign. Tommy could not see the coin, but he saw the waiter's low and cordial bow. He was smiling broadly as he came up to Airey.