"Don't try, unless you want me to take it back," Trent said,
strolling to the sideboard. "Lord, how those City chaps can guzzle!
Not a drop of champagne left. Two unopened bottles though! Here,
stick 'em in your bag and take 'em to the missis, young man. I
paid for the lot, so there's no use leaving any. Now clear out as
quick as you can. I'm off!"

"You will allow me, sir - "

Scarlett Trent closed the door with a slam and disappeared. The
young man passed him a few moments later as he stood on the steps
of the hotel lighting a cigar. He paused again, intent on
stammering out some words of thanks. Trent turned his back upon
him coldly.



CHAPTER VIII


Trent, on leaving the hotel, turned for almost the first time in
his life westwards. For years the narrow alleys, the thronged
streets, the great buildings of the City had known him day by day,
almost hour by hour. Its roar and clamour, the strife of tongues
and keen measuring of wits had been the salt of his life. Steadily,
sturdily, almost insolently, he had thrust his way through to the
front ranks. In many respects those were singular and unusual
elements which had gone to the making of his success. His had
not been the victory of honied falsehoods, of suave deceit, of
gentle but legalised robbery. He had been a hard worker, a daring