"And all you learned on the market," said Ellis with sympathy, "going here to waste! Too bad! Get some one to back you."
Jim looked at him sidewise. "Will you do it?"
But Ellis smiled. "Why should I? No; stand on your own feet. Get your mother's power of attorney, and surprise her some day by doubling her income. But as for that, doesn't money pass through your hands down here every week."
"Passes through quickly," answered Wayne. "Comes down Saturday morning, and I pay the men at noon."
"Pay every week?" Ellis inquired. "Every fortnight is what I believe in. But of course—and yet three days, with clever placing, would be enough to make you double that money. Three weeks, and you could—do anything!"
"By Jove!" cried Jim, starting.
"I'll be off," said Ellis, pushing back his chair. "This lunch was better than I expected. We must meet here again, some day."
"Good!" answered Jim. He finished his last glass, but as he rose he was as steady as if he carried nothing. "For all that," muttered Ellis to himself, "your brain is softer than half an hour ago." They separated at the door of the hotel, and went their respective ways.
When Ellis, after inspecting his house, stood on the terrace and looked down upon Chebasset, he still had Jim on his mind. Would the ideas work? Did he still taste that wine in his mouth, or his own words? Small! and Ellis spat. Small, but well done, as the event was to prove. And yet Ellis had neither heard nor read of Mephisto and the student, of Iago and Roderigo.