'I know,' said Logan admonishingly.

'Well, hanged if I could take it, and she--she could not stand it either,
and both of us--'

'Do not be elegiac,' interrupted Logan. 'I know. Still, I am rather
sorry for people's people. The unruly affections simply poison the lives
of parents and guardians, aye, and of the children too. The aged are now
so hasty and imprudent. What would not Tala have given to prevent his
Grace from marrying Mrs. Tankerville?'

Merton leapt to his feet and smote his brow.

'Wait, don't speak to me--a great thought flushes all my brain. Hush! I
have it,' and he sat down again, pouring seltzer water into a half empty
glass.

'Have what?' asked Logan.

'The Felt Want. But the accomplices?'

'But the advertisements!' suggested Logan.

'A few pounds will cover _them_. I can sell my books,' Merton sighed.

'A lot of advertising your first editions will pay for. Why, even to
launch a hair-restorer takes--'

'Oh, but,' Merton broke in, '_this_ want is so widely felt, acutely felt
too: hair is not in it. But where are the accomplices?'