I could not help admiring the quickness with which he recovered himself. Almost immediately he was the suave, chatty Sam Fisher who had unbosomed his theories and dreams to me in the train to London. 'I quit,' he said pleasantly. 'The episode is closed. I am a man of peace, and I take it that you would not keep on lying quietly on that bed while I went into the other room and abstracted our young friend? Unless you have changed your mind again, would a fifty-fifty offer tempt you?' 'Not an inch.' 'Just so. I merely asked.' 'And how about Mr Abney, in any case? Suppose we met him on the stairs?' 'We should not meet him on the stairs,' said Sam confidently. 'You did not take coffee tonight, I gather?' 'I didn't--no. Why?' He jerked his head resignedly. 'Can you beat it! I ask you, young man, could I have foreseen that, after drinking coffee every night regularly for two months, you would pass it up tonight of all nights? You certainly are my jinx, sonny. You have hung the Indian sign on me all right.' His words had brought light to me. 'Did you drug the coffee?' 'Did I! I fixed it so that one sip would have an insomnia patient in dreamland before he had time to say "Good night". That stuff Rip Van Winkle drank had nothing on my coffee. And all wasted! Well, well!' He turned towards the door. 'Shall I leave the light on, or would you prefer it off?' 'On please. I might fall asleep in the dark.' 'Not you! And, if you did, you would dream that I was there, and wake up. There are moments, young man, when you bring me pretty near to quitting and taking to honest work.' He paused. 'But not altogether. I have still a shot or two in my locker. We shall see what we shall see. I am not dead yet. Wait!' 'I will, and some day, when I am walking along Piccadilly, a passing automobile will splash me with mud. A heavily furred plutocrat will stare haughtily at me from the tonneau, and with a start of surprise I shall recognize--' 'Stranger things have happened. Be flip while you can, sonny. You win so far, but this hoodoo of mine can't last for ever.' He passed from the room with a certain sad dignity. A moment later he reappeared. 'A thought strikes me,' he said. 'The fifty-fifty proposition does not impress you. Would it make things easier if I were to offer my cooperation for a mere quarter of the profit?' 'Not in the least.' 'It's a handsome offer.' 'Wonderfully. I'm afraid I'm not dealing on any terms.' He left the room, only to return once more. His head appeared, staring at me round the door, in a disembodied way, like the Cheshire Cat. 'You won't say later on I didn't give you your chance?' he said anxiously. He vanished again, permanently this time. I heard his steps passing down the stairs. II