"Fraser?" I said reflectively. "The only Fraser I know is a baker in Clare Market, who supplies my old servant, Mrs Parker, with bread." Then, after a pause, I added, "And you say that these people are friends of mine? Have I many friends?" "Lots. A rich man has always plenty of good-humoured acquaintances." "They like to come down here for a breath of country air, I suppose, eh?" I laughed. "That's about it," he answered. "A good many of them are not very sincere in their friendship, I fear. The man who has money, lives well, keeps a good table, and has choice wines in his cellar need never be at a loss for genial companions." "You seem to be a bit of a philosopher, my friend." I remarked. He smiled knowingly. "I haven't acted as your secretary without learning a few of the crooked ways of the world." "What?" I exclaimed. "Don't I always act honestly, then?" This was something entirely new. "Nobody can be honest in finance." "Well," I said, resenting his imputation, "I wasn't aware that I had ever swindled a person of sixpence in my life." "Sixpences in such sums as they deal in at Winchester House don't count. It's the thousands." We passed a couple of gaping maid-servants in long-stringed caps, who stood aside, looking at me in wonder. No doubt the news that a demented man was in the house had reached the servants' hall. I was, in fact, on show to the domestics. "Then you mean to imply that these financial dealings of mine--of which, by the way, I have no knowledge whatsoever--are not always quite straight?" I said, as we walked together down a long carpeted corridor. He looked at me in hesitation. "It's, of course, business," he answered--"sharp business. I don't mean to imply that the dealings at Winchester House are any more unfair than those of any other financier in the City; but sometimes, you know, there's just a flavour of smartness about them that might be misconstrued by a clever counsel in a criminal court." "What?" I cried, halting and glaring at him. "Now, be frank with me, Gedge. Tell me plainly, have I ever swindled anybody?" "Certainly not," he said, laughing. "Why, it's this very smartness that has made you what you are to-day--a millionaire. If you had not been very wide awake and shrewd you'd have been ruined long ago." "Then, I suppose, I'm well known in the city, eh?" "Your name's as well known as Bennett's clock, and your credit stands as high as any one's between Ludgate Hill and Fenchurch Street." "Extraordinary!" I said. "What you tell me sounds like some remarkable fairy tale." "The balance at your banker's is sufficient proof that what I say is truth," he remarked. "There may be a good many fairy tales in certain prospectuses, but there certainly is none in your financial soundness."