THE MUTABLE MANY A Novel By Robert Barr Second Edition “For the imitable, rank-scented many, let them Regard me as I do not flatter, and Therein behold themselves? --CORIOLANUS. London: Frederick A. Stokes Company 1896 [Illustration: 0001] [Illustration: 0007] He that trusts you, Where he should find you lions, finds you hares; Where foxes, geese. You are no surer, no, Than is the coal of fire upon the ice, Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is, To make him worthy, whose offence subdues him And curse that justice did it. Who deserves greatness, Deserves your hate: and your affections are A sick man’s appetite, who desires most that Which would increase his evil. He that depends Upon your favours, swims with fins of lead, And hews down oaks with rushes.. Hang ye! Trust ye? With every minute you do change a mind; And call him noble that was now your hate, Him vile, that was now your garland.” Coriolanus. THE MUTABLE MANY CHAPTER I. The office of Monkton & Hope’s great factory hung between heaven and earth, and, at the particular moment John Sartwell, manager, stood looking out of the window towards the gates, heaven consisted of a brooding London fog suspended a hundred feet above the town, hesitating to fall, while earth was represented by a sticky black-cindered factory-yard bearing the imprint of many a hundred boots. The office was built between the two huge buildings known as the “Works.” The situation of the office had evidently been an after-thought--it was of wood, while the two great buildings which it joined together as if they were Siamese twins of industry, were of brick. Although no architect had ever foreseen the erection of such a structure between the two buildings, yet necessity, the mother of invention, had given birth to what Sartwell always claimed was the most conveniently situated office in London. More and more room had been acquired in the big buildings as business increased, and the office--the soul of the whole thing--had, as it were, to take up a position outside its body.