'I've got a capital idea for a new paper,' began Spiller.
'Have you?' Gregory did not show much curiosity. How beautiful her neck was, and those thin arms!
'Art, literature and science,' Spiller continued. 'The idea's a really modern one. It's to bring science into touch with the arts and so into touch with life. Life, art, science—all three would gain. You see the notion?'
'Yes,' said Gregory, 'I see.' He was looking at Molly, hoping to catch her eye. He caught it at last, that cool and steady grey eye. She smiled and nodded.
'You like the idea?' asked Spiller.
'I think it's splendid,' answered Gregory with a sudden warmth that astonished his interlocutor.
Spiller's large severe face shone with pleasure. 'Oh, I'm glad,' he said, 'I'm very glad indeed that you like it so much.'
'I think it's splendid,' said Gregory extravagantly. 'Simply splendid.' She had seemed really glad to see him, he thought.
'I was thinking,' Spiller pursued, with a rather elaborate casualness of manner, 'I was thinking you might like to help me start the thing. One could float it comfortably with a thousand pounds of capital.'
The enthusiasm faded out of Gregory's face; it became blank in its clerical roundness. He shook his head. 'If I had a thousand pounds,' he said regretfully. Damn the man, he was thinking. Setting me a trap like that.
'If,' repeated Spiller. 'But my dear fellow!' He laughed. 'And besides, it's a safe six per cent investment. I can collect an extraordinarily strong set of contributors, you know.'
Gregory shook his head once more. 'Alas,' he said, 'alas.'
'And what's more,' insisted Spiller, 'you'd be a benefactor of society.'
'Impossible.' Gregory was firm; he planted his feet
