"Hm!" he remarked. "Very nice vase. Let's get on to lunch. I'm
hungry."
Mr. Waddington stopped short upon the pavement and gripped his
companion's arm.
"Burton," he said, a trifle hesitatingly, "you don't think--you don't
imagine--"
"Not a bit of it!" Burton interrupted, savagely. "One must be a little
human now and then. By Jove, old man, there are some ties, if you like!
I always did think a yellow one would suit me."
Mr. Waddington pressed him gently along.
"I am not sure," he muttered, "that we are quite in the mood to buy
ties. I want to ask you a question, Burton."
"Go ahead."
"You were telling me about this wonderful scheme of your friend the
professor's, to make--Menatogen, I think you said. Did you part with
both your beans?"
"Both," Burton replied, almost fiercely. "But I've another fortnight or
so yet. It can't come before--it shan't!"
"You expect, I suppose, to make a great deal of money?" Mr. Waddington
continued.
"We shall make piles," Burton declared. "I have had a large sum already
for the beans. My pockets are full of money. Queer how light-hearted
it makes you feel to have plenty of money. It's a dull world, you know,
after all, and we are dull fellows.
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