The spider and the fly

by Charles Garvice

Then the carriage was on the move, and Bertie and Howard Murpoint stood looking after it.

Howard Murpoint regarded Bertie with a smile.

"You do not fear influenza," he said, nodding at the other's bare head.

"Eh? Oh, no," said Bertie. "I'll get my hat now, though."

And with a cool nod he strode into the hall again.

Howard Murpoint turned to make his way to his own brougham, and in doing so nearly knocked down a gentleman who was standing near him.

"Ha, Smythe," he exclaimed, "you here?"

"Eh? Yes," said the man, a short, nervous-looking creature, with fair, insipid face and timid, restless eyes. "Yes; just passing on my way to the club and—and stopped to look in."

"Club!" said Howard Murpoint. "Better come home and coffee with me."

And he linked his arm within that of his acquaintance.