"Are you going to publish it?" asked Mr. Clutterbuck politely, by way of beginning the conversation.
"Well," said Mr. Bailey, "I rather think I am. I dare say I should have to get it printed abroad, but that's no drawback."
"I hope it's all right," said Mr. Clutterbuck in alarm.
"Oh yes, it's quite moral," said Mr. Bailey airily. "But one often has to get things done abroad. Would you like to look at some of it?"
Mr. Clutterbuck had the courtesy to glance at the yards of double names and dates, but they meant nothing to him. He asked which column one read first, and William Bailey could only find the stupid and would-be enigmatic reply that some read it one way and some read it the other.
"Beaufort equals Rosenberg, or Rosenberg equals Beaufort: it's all the same thing. It's usually French on the left and German on the right," he said quizzically, putting his head on one side. "Middle Ages there, Modern Ages here," he went on, wagging his head symbolically right and left; and then suddenly broke out: "What've you come to see me about? Still hanging fire?"
Mr. Clutterbuck admitted that it was, and Mr. Bailey surveyed him with great kindness. It was evident the crank had no desire to eat up this particular millionaire; he would give him a certificate of pure blood. He smiled at his sister's new acquaintance with deep benediction and at last he said in a knowing tone:
"Look here, Mr. Clutterbuck, I think I can only do one thing for you, but it's a very useful thing. It's just a rule of thumb, and I'm afraid you'll think it something in the dark; but it's no good making any more of it just now than a plain rule of thumb. It's just a plain rule of thumb."
Mr. Clutterbuck groaned inwardly. He was in the fog again. But William Bailey went on quite composed: