"Pleased to meet you, sir," wheezed Mr. Martin. "Any friend of hers is a friend of mine." Then he came to business. He knew nothing of motor-cars himself, but the cab business needed likely young fellers, different kind of feller from 'orses; they needed 'ands and a heart to understand, something special, an inborn gift. "Lookin' at you, I should say you didn't 'ave it. But motors, well, that's a thing you can learn. A motor can't take a dislike to you same as a 'orse, and, likewise, a motor can't take a fancy to you and work 'is 'eart out for you, same as a 'orse. I've 'ad 'orses, if you'll believe me, as it's been a honor to drive, and I've never 'ad a 'orse as could abide Mrs. Martin, God bless 'er! It was a great grief to me, that was." René had been primed with the wonders of Mrs. Martin and Ann had told him the story of the horseshoe, and he was able to sympathize and show his sympathy. He set his case before Mr. Martin. "'Tain't many men," said the livery-keeper, "as turns from books to work. 'Tain't many as can. I seen many a good man go wrong through books--discontented, uppish, faddy, nothin' good enough. But they was mostly too old or middle-aged. When a man gets idees, there's nothin' to be done with him. That's my experience, and I been sitting here these forty years. But perhaps you're young enough." "Young enough to try, anyhow," said René, and that brought the old man back to the affair of the moment. He had a new car on order, and when it arrived it would be given to Casey, and then René could have Casey's machine, a Renault. In the meantime, it would be necessary for him to study up the knowledge of London preparatory to taking out his license. Casey would tell him all about that, and if he liked he could come into the office and help with the books and the accessories and earn fifteen shillings a week. He closed with that, and arranged to begin the next day, coming very early in the morning so that he could meet Casey. "I do hope you'll like it," said Ann, as they walked away. "I'm sure I shall," said he. "I like the old fellow, and I must do something, and that's better than blacking my face and gardening." She laughed. "It does seem queer, after all your book-learning." "When I look back on it, my dear Ann, I can only remember reading one book with pleasure after I was a child and did everything with pleasure." "What book was that?" "It was an anthology. Something like this was in it: 'And there shall be for thee all soft delight That shadowy thought can win, A bright torch, and a casement ope at night, To let the warm love in.'" "That's pretty," said Ann Pidduck. "There are pretty things in books, though I never read them." Said he: "I never had the feeling of it until now. I think something went wrong with me that I couldn't feel." "But you must have, to suffer like you did and run away."