"Oh, ay, the clock. Of course. I am quite well, mother. You need not be uneasy about me. What was I going to tell you about the clock?"
"You were going to tell me--I do not know really what. I asked you when it would be completed. That is my chief anxiety, for then you will be always here--always here, near me, my dear son."
"Certainly; when I sell my unrivalled clock, I'll give up living in London and come down here to you, mother, and become a private gentleman."
"But why can't you come down and stop here always, my Oscar? Surely your clock could be brought to Millway, and back to London again when 'tis finished?" The voice of the woman was caressing, pleading. "I have not very long to live, Oscar. Might not I have you near me that little time?" The tone was tremulous and pathetic.
"Dear, dear mother," he said softly, tenderly. "I cannot--I cannot move the clock. You forget how large it is. I have told you over and over again it would half fill this room. Besides, I have other business in London I cannot leave just now. I will come as soon as ever I can. You may take my word for that. Let us say no more on that subject at present. I was going to explain to you about my marvellous clock. Let me see. What have I already told you?"
"Oh, it was too wonderful to remember. Tell me over again."
"Very well. To begin with, it will, of course, measure time first of all. That is the principal and easiest thing to contrive. It will show the year, the month, the day of the month, the day of the week, the hour of the day, the minute of the hour, the second of the minute, the tenth of the second. All these will be shown on one dial."
"That much alone puzzles and astonishes me. It will be the most useful clock in the world."
"So far that is all easy, and would not make it even a very remarkable clock, mother. It will take account of leap year, and be constructed to run till the year ten thousand of the Christian era."
"When once wound up?"