"What securities?"

"Well, you'll receive"--here Paul dropped his voice--"three thousand
short of a quarter of a million in return for what you put in, my boy."

"Then I'm worth over two hundred and fifty thousand pounds!" murmured
Mr. Prohack feebly. And he added, still more feebly: "Something will
have to be done about this soon." His heart was beating against his
waistcoat like an engine.




CHAPTER XIV

END OF AN IDLE DAY

I


It is remarkable that even in the most fashionable shopping
thoroughfares certain shops remain brilliantly open, exposing
plush-cushioned wares under a glare of electricity in the otherwise
darkened street, for an hour or so after all neighbouring establishments
have drawn down their blinds and put up their shutters. An interesting
point of psychology is involved in this phenomenon.

On his way home from the paradise of the mosque, Mr. Prohack, afoot and
high-spirited, and energised by a long-forgotten sensation of physical