"We may, as you say, look twice at a fiver," continued Edward Henry, "but we’re apt to be careless about hundred-pound notes in this district. I daresay that’s why I always carry one." "But it’s burnt!" "Only just the edge, not enough to harm it. If any bank in England refuses it, return it to me, and I’ll give you a couple more in exchange. Is that talking?" "Well, I’m dashed!" Mr. Bryany attempted to rise, and then subsided back into his chair. "I am simply and totally dashed!" He smiled weakly, hysterically. And in that instant Edward Henry felt all the sweetness of a complete and luscious revenge. He said commandingly: "You must sign me a transfer. I’ll dictate it." Then he jumped up. "You’re in a hurry?" "I am. My wife is expecting me. You promised to find me a match." Edward Henry waved the unlit cigarette as a reproach to Mr. Bryany’s imperfect hospitality. IV. The clock of Bleakridge Church, still imperturbably shining in the night, showed a quarter to one when he saw it again on his hurried and guilty way home. The pavements were drying in the fresh night wind, and he had his overcoat buttoned up to the neck. He was absolutely solitary in the long, muddy perspective of Trafalgar Road. He walked because the last tram-car was already housed in its shed at the other end of the world, and he walked quickly because his conscience drove him onwards. And yet he dreaded to arrive, lest a wound in the child’s leg should have maliciously decided to fester in order to put him in the wrong. He was now as apprehensive concerning that wound as Nellie herself had been at tea-time. But in his mind, above the dark gulf of anxiety, there floated brighter thoughts. Despite his fears and his remorse as a father, he laughed aloud in the deserted street when he remembered Mr. Bryany’s visage of astonishment upon uncreasing the note. Indubitably, he made a terrific and everlasting impression upon Mr. Bryany. He was sending Mr. Bryany out of the Five Towns a different man. He had taught Mr. Bryany a thing or two. To what brilliant use had he turned the purely accidental possession of a hundred-pound note! One of his finest inspirations--an inspiration worthy of the great days of his youth! Yes, he had had his hour that evening, and it had been a glorious one. Also, it had cost him a hundred pounds, and he did not care; he would retire to bed with a net gain of two hundred and forty-one pounds instead of three hundred and forty-one pounds, that was all.