"Poor old chap," said Vane with quick sympathy; "rely on me to help. We always were pals at school, you know. Is it money?"
"No. I have enough to keep me going. By the way, your mention of our being pals at school reminds me that I met another chap who was with us at Winchester ages ago."
"Don't make us out to be as old as the hills, Owain. We're young yet, and the wine of life still sparkles in the bowl. Who is this chap?"
"Spruce. He is----"
"Oh Lord!" Vane removed his cigarette from his thin lips with an air of disgust. "I know what he is; you needn't tell me anything about him. You don't mean to say that you look upon him as a pal?"
"No! He wanted me to but I couldn't stomach him and his dandified airs. If you want my opinion of him," continued Hench frankly, "he's a sickening little beast, as arrogant as they make them."
"He's all that and more--one of the Gadarene swine. Where did you meet him?"
"At a boarding-house in Bethnal Green."
"Oh! That's the fox's hole, is it. I thought he would go further afield."
"Has he any reason to go afield at all?" asked Hench, staring. "You bet he has, old fellow. Mr. Cuthbert Spruce has been a man on the market for quite a long time."