distinct object or ambition in life and then have failed to realize
it."

"Ah, I begin to understand," murmured Indiman. "An extraordinary
basis, indeed, for a social organization--the lame ducks, the noble
army of the incapables, the gentlemen a main gauche! Pray go on;
you interest me exceedingly."

"We have them all here," answered Dr. Magnus, smiling. "The
unsuccessful author, the business bankrupt, the artist whose
pictures have never reached the line. The touch-stone of failure,
you see; the clubability (odious word!) of our membership is
unimpeachable.

"A superb conception. My dear Dr. Magnus, I must beg of you to
enroll Mr. Thorp and myself at once. Believe me that we are not
unworthy of a place in your galaxy of dark stars."

Dr. Magnus walked to the table and took up his pen. "This
gentleman?" he began, inquiringly, and looked at me.

"An unfortunate affair of the heart," answered Indiman--an
exquisite piece of audacity at which I frowned, and then perforce
had to smile. "It comes within your rule, I trust?"

"For limited membership only," answered Dr. Magnus. "In fact, we
rather discourage victims of sentimental reverses, it being
invariably impossible to determine whether the transaction is
finally to show a profit or a loss. Then, too, the quick
recoveries--but we'll let it stand at that. Now, with yourself?"