'But won't the clients blab?' Logan suggested.

'They can't,' Merton said. 'They would be laughed at consumedly. It
will be their interest to hold their tongues.'

'Well, let us hope that they will see it in that light.' Logan was not
too sanguine.

Merton had a better opinion of his enterprise.

'People, if they come to us at all for assistance in these very delicate
and intimate affairs, will have too much to lose by talking about them.
They may not come, we can only try, but if they come they will be silent
as the grave usually is.'

'Well, it is late, and the whisky is low,' said Logan in mournful tones.
'May the morrow's reflections justify the inspiration of--the whisky.
Good night!'

'Good night,' said Merton absently.

He sat down when Logan had gone, and wrote a few notes on large sheets of
paper. He was elaborating the scheme. 'If collaboration consists in
making objections, as the French novelist said, Logan is a rare
collaborator,' Merton muttered as he turned out the pallid lamp and went
to bed.

Next morning, before dressing, he revolved the scheme. It bore the
change of light and survived the inspiration of alcohol. Logan looked in
after breakfast. He had no new objections. They proceeded to action.