"But supposing," Sir Joseph persisted lamely, "I gave you carte-blanche to extend your work as you liked?"
"And with what object?"
"I have told you the object," the baronet replied mildly.
"No!" exclaimed the younger man with emphasis. "The object would be to add to the organisations which are springing up everywhere for the purpose of making our impossible civilisation possible for at least a little while longer. That would be the ultimate object."
"How much would you require?" Sir Joseph suggested in his most melting tones, still clinging desperately to his belief in the only bait he possessed.
Lord Henry laughed despondently. "Only enough to purchase sufficient dynamite to blow my present sanatorium skywards," he said. Then resuming his gravity and rising, he extended a hand to the baronet.
"No," he added, "I'm afraid my mind is made up. I must leave this country, Mrs. Delarayne or no Mrs. Delarayne. Thank you very much indeed, all the same. I have seen you and enjoyed our talk. Mrs. Delarayne's behest has at least been strictly obeyed."
"When will you be leaving?" Sir Joseph enquired, gracefully throwing down his cards.
"In about three months' time, I expect."
"I am sorry, very sorry," ejaculated the baronet.