documents. When he found them all safe, he turned to me with a hard smile. 'This letter,' he said, with quivering lips, 'I consider still more insulting than all his previous ones.'

But, for myself, I really thought there was a ring of truth about it. Colonel Clay was a rogue, no doubt—a most unblushing rogue; but even a rogue, I believe, has his better moments.

And the phrase about the 'position of trust and responsibility' touched Charles to the quick, I suppose, in re the Slump in Cloetedorp Golcondas. Though, to be sure, it was a hit at me as well, over the ten per cent commission.