"I do."
"I have thought about it for the last six months. We have formed a company."
"A company!"
Wedge was as full of mystery as an Oxford tractman. He rose on tiptoe from his chair, proceeded to the passage, listened on the stairs, returned as carefully, closed the door, resumed his seat.
"A company!" repeated Planner.
"Such an undertaking!" proceeded the ungagged and self-deluded Wedge. "It's the finest thing that has been thought of for these hundred years. I am surprised it never once occurred to you. Your mind, Planner, should have grasped it."
"What can it be?"
"We mean to call it the Pantamorphica, because it takes all shapes. We are in treaty now for a hundred acres of land within three miles of London. We are to have a race-course—public gardens with fountains and promenades—a gymnasium for callisthenic and other exercises—boating—a menagerie—a library—lecture-rooms—conservatories"——
"By Jove, I see!" ejaculated Planner. "Capital!—a universal playground; trust me, I have thought of it before. Go on."
"These are for the daylight. At night we have a concert-room—a theatre—saloons for dancing—halls for refreshment—museums for converzatione. In the centre of the public walks we have a synagogue, a church, and chapel for Sabbath visitors. Then we shall have aviaries—apiaries—caves—alpine scenery"——