Prohack stopped a taxi-cab and drove to Paddington, squandering
eighteenpence on the journey, and reflecting as he rolled forward upon
the primitiveness of a so-called civilisation in which you could not buy
a morning paper in the morning without spending the whole morning over
the transaction--and reflecting also upon the disturbing fact that after
one full day of its practice, his scheme of scientific idleness had gone
all to bits. He got the paper, and read therein a very exciting account
of Sir Paul Spinner's deal in oil-lands. The amount of Paul's profit was
not specified, but readers were given to understand that it was enormous
and that Paul had successfully bled the greatest Oil Combine in the
world. The article, though discreet and vague in phraseology, was well
worth a line on any placard. It had cost Mr. Prohack the price of a
complete Shakespere, but he did not call it dear. He threw the paper
away with a free optimistic gesture of delight. Yes, he had wisely put
his trust in old Paul and he was veritably a rich man--one who could
look down on mediocre fortunes of a hundred thousand pounds or so.
Civilisation was not so bad after all.

Then the original attraction which had drawn him out of the house
resumed its pull.... Why did his subconscious feet take him in the
direction of Manchester Square? True, the Wallace Collection of pictures
is to be found at Hertford House, Manchester Square, and Mr. Prohack had
always been interested in pictures! Well, if he did happen to find
himself in Manchester Square he might perhaps glance at the exterior of
the dwelling which his son desired to plant upon him and his wife
desired him to be planted with.... It was there right enough. It had not
been spirited away in the night hours. He recognised the number. An
enormous house; the largest in the Square after Hertford House. Over
its monumental portico was an enormous sign, truthfully describing it as
"this noble mansion." As no automobile stood at the front-door Mr.