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Updated: June 15, 2025
When at length Denry received notice from the "Secretary and Steward" that he was elected to the most sparkling fellowship in the Five Towns, he was positively afraid to go and visit the club. He wanted some old and experienced member to lead him gently into the club and explain its usages and introduce him to the chief habitués.
The idea was excellent, and it showed that after all the Signal was getting just a little more afraid of its young rival than it had pretended to be. For, strange to say, after a trying period of hesitation, the Five Towns Daily was slightly on the upward curve thanks to Denry. Denry did not mean to be beaten by the puzzle which the Daily offered to his intelligence.
Mrs Machin perceived then, in a flash of terrible illumination, that there never had been any Cecil Wilbraham; that Denry had merely invented him and his long moustaches and his wall eye for the purpose of getting the better of his mother. The whole affair was an immense swindle upon her.
For there were no horses in front of it, and Denry saw that the double shafts had been pushed up perpendicularly, after the manner of carmen when they outspan. The pantechnicon was running away. It had perceived the wrath to come and was fleeing. Its guardians had evidently left it imperfectly scotched or braked, and it had got loose.
Denry Machin left school to be clerk to Mr Duncalf, on the condition that within a year he should be able to write shorthand at the rate of a hundred and fifty words a minute. In those days mediocre and incorrect shorthand was not a drug on the market. And for several years he really thought that he had nothing further to hope for. Then he met the Countess.
And then Harold Etches leaned across the tram to him and said: "I say, Machin, I've several times meant to ask you. Why don't you put up for the Sports Club? It's really very good, you know." Denry blushed, quite probably for the last time in his life. And he saw with fresh clearness how great he was, and how large he must loom in the life of the town. He perceived that he had been too modest.
"And where's Ruth?" "Be hanged to Ruth!" he shouted furiously. As the cab rattled over the cobbles the Titubic slipped away from the landing-stage. The irretrievable had happened. Nellie burst into tears. "Look here," Denry said savagely. "If you don't dry up, I shall have to cry myself." "What are you going to do with me?" she whimpered. "Well, what do you think?
And Denry himself said to the audience of policemen, with his own natural tone, smile and gesture, colloquially, informally, comically: "Now then! Move along there, please! I'm not going to say any more!" And for a signal he put his hands in the position for applauding. And sat down. He had tickled the stout ribs of every bobby in the place. The applause surpassed all previous applause.
She might, with advantage to Bursley, have given lessons in laughing as well as in dancing, for Bursley laughs without grace. Her laughter was a proof that she had not a care in the world, and that the world for her was naught but a source of light amusement. Denry smiled guardedly. "Of course, with me it's purely a matter of business," said he.
"You won't be late that is, nothing to speak of. The Institute is just round the top here." "You don't mean to say you're going to let that mule beat you?" exclaimed the Countess. "I was only thinking of your being late." "Oh, bother!" said she. "Your mule may be ruined." The horse-trainer in her was aroused. "And then my arm?" said Denry. "Shall I drive back?" the Countess suggested.
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