“But, after all, you have had a most successful career—”

“Look at the matter this way, Glencore; there are about six—say six men in all Europe—who have a little more common sense than all the rest of the world: I could tell you the names of five of them.” If there was a supreme boastfulness in the speech, the modest delivery of it completely mystified the hearer, and he sat gazing with wonderment at the man before him.

[ [!-- H2 anchor --] ]

CHAPTER XLV. SOME SAD REVERIES

“Have you any plans, Glencore?” asked Upton, as they posted along towards Dover.

“None,” was the brief reply.

“Nor any destination you desire to reach?”

“Just as little.”

“Such a state as yours, then, I take it, is about the best thing going in life. Every move one makes is attended with so many adverse considerations,—every goal so separated from us by unforeseen difficulties,—that an existence, even without what is called an object, has certain great advantages.”

“I am curious to hear them,” said the other, half cynically.