"And when may you be going, Mr. Dreher?" "The day after to-morrow, and what about you?" "A week on Wednesday." "So there we are!" I said. "There we are! as you say, sir. It was bound to finish like this." My char-woman had had the happy inspiration of coming to do some cleaning that morning, so I found my flat in order and well aired. Having made a hasty toilet, I thought of various important errands. I had kept my taxi, luckily for me as the motor-omnibuses were no longer running. It was five o'clock. I went to the Rue des Beaux-Arts first. My father was not at home, so I left word with the old parlour-maid that I would be there for dinner that evening. Many wants led me to a big shop. Nothing safer I thought than to buy one's outfit oneself. I was lucky enough to find what I wanted quickly, even in the boot line, where a crowd of people were being fitted. Having finished my shopping, I called to my chauffeur: "Rue du Helder!" At the head office of the "Abyssinian Railway Company" my director welcomed me with open arms: "My dear fellow! You're going? Oh, I thought as much! Rather rough on us! Duroty is going too. The best men, of course! I wonder whether we shan't have to shut up shop." "And out there? How's the work getting on there?" "Oh, well ... it's just got to go on. The workmen are natives. The engineers are the trouble.... Of course I ought to have had more sense and taken Englishmen!" I went straight from there to the bank. It was shut. They were not seeing any one. Luckily Forgues, my stockbroker, hooked me as I was parleying in the waiting-room, and made me come in. He seemed to have collapsed completely; there must be bad news, I could drag nothing out of him, as he sat there in his moleskin arm-chair, but vague allusions, and an estimate, which was by the way entirely incorrect, of the financial resources of the two parties concerned. Germany had no reserve of gold. If we could hold out for two or three months! "Are you going to fight?" I asked. "Oh, no, no! Since the Agadir business, you know, ... my wife's one idea has been to get me put on half-pay. I thought it awful rot, but as my heart is a bit weak ... my doctor has given me a certificate; I've been to see a surgeon-major; no difficulties were made about it.... And by Jove it's lucky for me now!... And what about you? You're not going, I suppose." "I beg your pardon!" He seemed surprised. He had just seen several of his clients--Well, I was the first.... Feeling irritated, I cut him short with: "Can you let me have a certain sum on account?" "Oh, but there's the moratorium...." Somewhat embarrassed, he entered into explanations which I listened to with raised eyebrows: "To an old client like myself!" After renewed hesitation, he made up his mind: "Well, let's see, would you need a large sum?" "No, let's say forty pounds." "Not more than that?" "A little gold, if possible."