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Updated: June 26, 2025
On the occasion of our last visit...," etc. He left out nothing of their splendour. The article was quoted as far as Birmingham in the Midlands Press. People recalled Denry's famous waltz with the Countess at the memorable dance in Bursley Town Hall. And they were bound to assume that the relations thus begun had been more or less maintained.
Then he caught sight, through the doors, of the back of Jock, the Countess's carriage footman and the son of his mother's old friend. Jock was standing motionless at a half-open door to the right of the space between Denry's double doors and the next pair of double doors. Denry tried to attract his attention by singular movements and strange noises of the mouth.
Of its strange escapade Denry had been the sole witness. "Well, I'm dashed!" he murmured aloud. And a voice replied from the belly of the pantechnicon: "Who is there?" All Denry's body shook. "It's me!" said he. "Not Mr Machin?" said the voice. "Yes," said he. "I jumped on as it came down the street and here we are!" "Oh!" cried the voice. "I do wish you could get round to me." Ruth Earp's voice.
He was wearing the new knickerbockers which he had ordered at Montreux, and which were of precisely the same vast check as had ornamented Denry's legs on the previous night. "Hullo!" said Denry, sympathetically. "What's this?" The Captain needed sympathy. "Ski-ing yesterday afternoon," said he, with a little laugh. "Hasn't the Countess told any of you?" "No," said Denry, "not a word."
Denry's hand, in clasping the bottle, had hidden a small label, which said: "POISON Nettleship's Patent Enamel-Cleaning Fluid. One wipe does it." Confusion! Only Nellie Cotterill seemed to be incapable of realising that a grave accident had occurred. She had laughed throughout the supper, and she still laughed, hysterically, though she had drunk scarcely any wine. Her mother silenced her.
Of course, if she chose to break it off.... But he must be minutely careful to do nothing which might lead to a breach. Such was Denry's code. The walk home at midnight, amid the reverberations of the falling tempest, was marked by a slight pettishness on the part of Ruth, and by Denry's polite taciturnity.
They were struck by Denry's amazing discreet self-denial in never boasting of them. Denry rose in the market of popular esteem. Talking of Denry, people talked of the Universal Thrift Club, which went quietly ahead, and they admitted that Denry was of the stuff which succeeds and deserves to succeed.
Or else he wanted to slip in unobserved while the heads of clubmen were turned. And then he had a distressing shock. Mrs Codleyn took it into her head that she must sell her cottage property. Now, Mrs Codleyn's cottage property was the back-bone of Denry's livelihood, and he could by no means be sure that a new owner would employ him as rent-collector.
But he knew quite well what it was. It was a cheque for twenty-five pounds. What he did not know was that, with the ten pounds paid in cash earlier in the day, it represented a very large part indeed of such of Denry's savings as had survived his engagement to Ruth Earp. Cregeen took a pen as though it had been a match-end and wrote a receipt.
He was now not simply a card; he was the card. "How do you do, Miss Earp?" said Denry, in a worldly manner, which he had acquired for himself by taking the most effective features of the manners of several prominent citizens, and piecing them together so that, as a whole, they formed Denry's manner. "Oh!
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