live in London. Never before had he been in London for more than a
few days at a time. But now, guided by his mother's advice, he was
to have a flat in Finacue street, just round the corner from
Desborough Street, a flat very completely and delightfully furnished
under her supervision. It had an admirable study, in which she had
arranged not only his books, but a number of others in beautiful old
leather bindings that it had amused her extremely to buy; it had a
splendid bureau and business-like letter-filing cabinets, a neat
little drawing-room and a dining-room, well-placed abundant electric
lights, and a man called Merkle whom she had selected very carefully
and who she felt would not only see to Benham's comfort but keep
him, if necessary, up to the mark.

This man Merkle seemed quite unaware that humanity "here and now"--
even as he was engaged in meticulously putting out Benham's clothes--
was "leaving its ancestral shelters and going out upon the
greatest adventure that ever was in space or time." If he had been
told as much by Benham he would probably have said, "Indeed, sir,"
and proceeded accurately with his duties. And if Benham's voice had
seemed to call for any additional remark, he would probably have
added, "It's 'igh time, sir, something of the sort was done. Will
you have the white wesket as before, sir, or a fresh one this
evening? . . . Unless it's a very special occasion, sir. . . .
Exactly, sir. THANK you, sir."

And when her son was properly installed in his apartments Lady
Marayne came round one morning with a large experienced-looking
portfolio and rendered an account of her stewardship of his estate
that was already some months overdue. It was all very confused and
confusing, and there were inexplicable incidents, a heavy overdraft