"Get my bill," he said shortly to Joseph as he sank into the gilded fauteuil. "Yes, sir." One advantage of a valet, he discovered, is that you can order him to do things which to do yourself would more than exhaust your moral courage. The black-calved gentleman-in-waiting brought the bill. It lay on a salver and was folded, conceivably so as to break the shock of it to the recipient. Edward Henry took it. "Wait a minute," he said. He read on the bill: "Apartments, £8. Dinner, £1, 2s. 0d. Breakfast, 6s. 6d. Lunch, 18s. Half Chablis, 6s. 6d. Valet's board, 10s. Tooth-brush, 2s. 6d." "That's a bit thick, half-a-crown for that tooth-brush!" he said to himself. "However--" The next instant he blenched once more. "Gosh!" he privately exclaimed as he read: "Paid driver of taxi-cab, £2, 3s. 6d." He had forgotten the taxi. But he admired the _sang-froid_ of Wilkins's, which paid such trifles as a matter of course, without deigning to disturb a guest by an inquiry. Wilkins's rose again in his esteem. The total of the bill exceeded thirteen pounds. "All right," he said to the gentleman-in-waiting. "Are you leaving to-day, sir?" the being permitted himself to ask. "Of course I'm not leaving to-day! Haven't I hired an electric brougham for a week?" Edward Henry burst out. "But I suppose I'm entitled to know how much I'm spending!" The gentleman-in-waiting humbly bowed and departed. Alone in the splendid chamber Edward Henry drew out a swollen pocket-book and examined its crisp, crinkly contents, which made a beauteous and a reassuring sight. "Pooh!" he muttered. He reckoned he would be living at the rate of about fifteen pounds a day, or five thousand five hundred a year. (He did not count the cost of his purchases, because they were in the nature of a capital expenditure.) "Cheap!" he muttered. "For once I'm about living up to my income!" The sensation was exquisite in its novelty. He ordered tea, and afterwards, feeling sleepy, he went fast asleep. He awoke to the ringing of the telephone-bell. It was quite dark. The telephone-bell continued to ring. "Joseph!" he called. The valet entered. "What time is it?" "After ten o'clock, sir." "The deuce it is!" He had slept over four hours! "Well, answer that confounded telephone." Joseph obeyed. "It's a Mr. Bryany, sir, if I catch the name right," said Joseph. Bryany! For twenty-four hours he had scarcely thought of Bryany or the option either. "Bring the telephone here," said Edward Henry. The cord would just reach to his chair. "Hello! Bryany! Is that you?" cried Edward Henry, gaily. And then he heard the weakened voice of Mr. Bryany in his ear: "How d'ye do, Mr. Machin? I've been after you for the better part of two days, and now I find you're staying in the same hotel as Mr. Sachs and me!" "Oh!" said Edward Henry.