'Yes,' said Humphrey, with some hesitation; 'that is a part of the business which I don't quite clearly understand, and on which I have my doubts. There is one thing, however, certain; that is, that he is there very frequently, and that it is advisable he should have a hint to discontinue his visits.' 'And by whom is that hint to be given to him?' 'Of course by Mrs. Claxton. But if her ignorance of the ways of the world prevents her from seeing the necessity of taking such a step, that necessity should be made clear by some one who has the right of advising her. In point of fact--by you!' 'It is my ignorance of the ways of the world upon which you were speaking just now,' said Martin, with a half smile. 'And no one could have a finer theme on which to discourse; but in certain matters you are good enough to be guided by me.' 'And you say that--' 'I say,' interrupted Humphrey Statham with vehemence, 'that Mr. Henrich Wetter is the last man who should be on intimate visiting terms at Mrs. Claxton's house. He is known not merely to have, but to boast of a certain unenviable reputation which, notwithstanding his undoubted leading position in the business world, causes him to be shunned socially by those who value the fair fame of their womankind.' 'This is bad hearing, indeed,' said Martin Gurwood nervously. 'Bad hearing,' interrupted Statham, emphasising his remark with outstretched hand, 'for any one to whom Alice is--I mean to say for any one who has Mrs. Claxton's interest at heart, it is, indeed, bad hearing.' Something in the tone of Humphrey Statham's voice, something in the unusual earnest expression of his face, caused Martin to keep his eyes fixed upon his friend with peculiar intensity. What was the reason of the thrill which passed through him as Humphrey had stumbled at the mention of Alice's name? What revelation, which should sting and overwhelm him, was about to be made by the man whose placid and unruffled nature he had often envied, whose heart he had always regarded as a part of his anatomy which did its work well, which beat warmly for his friends, but otherwise gave him little or no trouble? Humphrey Statham did not keep him very long in suspense. 'Look here, Martin,' said he, 'if you were to tell the people at Lloyd's, that I, Humphrey Statham, of 'Change-alley, was in some respects a fatalist, they would surely laugh at you, and tell you that fatalism and marine insurance did not go very well together. And yet it is to a certain extent the fact. Your arrival here this morning was no chance work, the spirit which prompted you to answer my appeal in person instead of by letter was--there, don't laugh at me--I felt it directly I saw you enter the room, and determined on my course of action, determined on making a clean breast of it, and telling my old friend what I have for some time now been wearing in my heart of hearts.'