In the lobby of Covent Garden he met Littleson, who had paused to light a cigarette on his way out. He stepped forward and addressed Vine eagerly.
"I was trying to find you only this afternoon," he said. "Can you come around to the club with me now, and have a talk?"
"Sorry," Vine answered. "I am here to meet some friends who will be out directly."
"Will you lunch with me to-morrow?" Littleson asked.
"No!" Vine answered. "To tell you the truth, nothing would induce me to accept any hospitality at your hands."
"You have made up your mind, then?" Littleson asked slowly.
"Never mind about that," Vine answered. "I have said all that I have to say to you and your friends."
Littleson laid his hand for a moment upon the other's shoulder.
"Look here, Vine," he said, "you're what I call a crank of the first order, but you are not a bad chap, and I'd hate to see you make the mistake of your life. Weiss and the others are not the sort of men to take an attack such as you threaten, sitting down. You take my advice and leave it alone. Come round to my rooms, and we'll make a bargain of it. I can promise you that you'll never need to go back to America to make dollars."
"Life isn't all a matter of dollars," Vine answered contemptuously. "There are other things worth thinking about. If I strike at you and your friends, it is not for the money or the notoriety I could make out of it. It is because I want to attack a villainous system, because I consider that you and Weiss and the rest of you are really doing your best to throttle the greatest country on God's earth."