"Why?" Edward Henry replied. "Simply because I feel I’m not fitted for the job. I don’t know enough. I don’t understand. I shouldn’t go the right way about the affair. For instance, I should never have guessed by myself that it was the proper thing to settle the name of the theatre before you’d got the lease of the land you’re going to build it on. Then I’m old-fashioned. I hate leaving things to the last moment; but seemingly there’s only one proper moment in these theatrical affairs, and that’s the very last. I’m afraid there’d be too much trusting in Providence for my taste. I believe in trusting in Providence, but I can’t bear to see Providence overworked. And I’ve never even tried to be intellectual, and I’m a bit frightened of poetry plays--" "But you’ve not read my play!" Carlo Trent mutteringly protested. "That is so," admitted Edward Henry. "Will you read it?" "Mr. Trent," said Edward Henry. "I’m not so young as I was." "We’re ruined!" sighed Rose Euclid with a tragic gesture. "Ruined?" Edward Henry took her up, smiling. "Nobody is ruined who knows where he can get a square meal. Do you mean to tell me you don’t know where you’re going to lunch to-morrow?" And he looked hard at her. It was a blow. She blenched under it. "Oh, yes," she said, with her giggle, "I know that." ("Well you just don’t!" he answered her in his heart. "You think you’re going to lunch with John Pilgrim. And you aren’t. And it serves you right!") "Besides," he continued aloud, "how can you say you’re ruined when I’m making you a present of something that I paid £100 for?" "But where am I to find the other half of the money--£2,250?" she burst out. "We were depending absolutely on you for it. If I don’t get it, the option will be lost, and the option’s very valuable." "All the easier to find the money then!" "What? In less than twenty-four hours? It can’t be done. I couldn’t get it in all London." "Mr. Marrier will get it for you ... one of his certainties!" Edward Henry smiled in the Five Towns’ manner. "I might, you knaoo!" said Marrier, brightening to full hope in the fraction of a second. But Rose Euclid only shook her head. "Mr. Seven Sachs, then?" Edward Henry suggested. "I should have been delighted," said Mr. Sachs with the most perfect gracious tranquillity. "But I cannot find another £2,250 to-morrow." "I shall just speak to that Mr. Bryany!" said Rose Euclid, in the accents of homicide. "I think you ought to," Edward Henry concurred. "But that won’t help things. I feel a little responsible, especially to a lady. You have a quarter of the whole option left in your hands, Miss Euclid. I’ll pay you at the same rate as Bryany sold to me. I gave £100 for half. Your quarter is therefore worth £50. Well, I’ll pay you £50." "And then what?" "Then let the whole affair slide."