Gods with such a convincing air of proprietorship, that at times, in
spite of the testimony of the Press to the contrary, Bensington was
disposed to regard him as the original inventor of the whole affair.

"These accidents," said Winkles, when Bensington hinted at the dangers
of further escapes, "are nothing. Nothing. The discovery is everything.
Properly developed, suitably handled, sanely controlled, we have--we
have something very portentous indeed in this food of ours.... We must
keep our eye on it ... We mustn't let it out of control again, and--we
mustn't let it rest."

He certainly did not mean to do that. He was at Bensington's now almost
every day. Bensington, glancing from the window, would see the faultless
equipage come spanking up Sloane Street and after an incredibly brief
interval Winkles would enter the room with a light, strong motion, and
pervade it, and protrude some newspaper and supply information and make
remarks.

"Well," he would say, rubbing his hands, "how are we getting on?" and so
pass to the current discussion about it.

"Do you see," he would say, for example, "that Caterham has been talking
about our stuff at the Church Association?"

"Dear me!" said Bensington, "that's a cousin of the Prime Minister,
isn't it?"

"Yes," said Winkles, "a very able young man--very able. Quite
wrong-headed; you know, violently reactionary--but thoroughly able. And
he's evidently disposed to make capital out of this stuff of ours. Takes