"We got it, but frankly we cannot make head or tail of it! ... _What_ option?" Mr. Vulto’s manner was crudely sarcastic. "_This_ option!" said Edward Henry, drawing papers from his pocket and putting down the right paper in front of Mr. Vulto with an uncompromising slap. Mr. Vulto picked up the paper with precautions, as if it were a contagion, and, assuming eye-glasses, perused it with his mouth open. "We know nothing of this," said Mr. Vulto, and it was as though he had added, "Therefore this does not exist." He glanced with sufferance at the window, which offered a close-range view of a whitewashed wall. "Then you weren’t in the confidence of your client?" "The late Lord Woldo?" "Yes." "Pardon me." "Obviously you weren’t in his confidence as regards this particular matter." "As you say," said Mr. Vulto with frigid irony. "Well, what are you going to do about it?" "Well--nothing." Mr. Vulto removed his eye-glasses and stood up. "Well, good morning. I’ll walk round to my solicitors." Edward Henry seized the option. "That will be simpler," said Mr. Vulto. Slossons much preferred to deal with lawyers than with laymen, because it increased costs and vitalised the profession. At that moment a stout, red-faced, and hoary man puffed very authoritatively into the room. "Vulto," he cried sharply, "Mr. Wrissell’s here. Didn’t they tell you?" "Yes, Mr. Slosson," answered Vulto, suddenly losing all his sarcastic quality and becoming a very junior partner. "I was just engaged with Mr.--" (he paused to glance at his desk)--"Machin, whose singular letter we received this morning about an alleged option on the lease of the chapel-site at Piccadilly Circus--the Woldo estate, sir. You remember, sir?" "This the man?" enquired Mr. Slosson, ex-president of the Law Society, with a jerk of the thumb. Edward Henry said: "This is the man." "Well," said Mr. Slosson, lifting his chin and still puffing, "it would be extremely interesting to hear his story, at any rate. I was just telling Mr. Wrissell about it. Come this way, sir. I’ve heard some strange things in my time, but--" He stopped. "Please follow me, sir," he ordained. "I’m dashed if I’ll follow you!" Edward Henry desired to say, but he had not the courage to say it. And because he was angry with himself he determined to make matters as unpleasant as possible for the innocent Mr. Slosson, who was used to bullying, and so well paid for bullying, that really no blame could be apportioned to him. It would have been as reasonable to censure an ordinary person for breathing as to censure Mr. Slosson for bullying. And so Edward Henry was steeling himself: "I’ll do him in the eye for that, even if it costs me every cent I’ve got." (A statement characterised by poetical licence!) III.