And there was Raymond who dabbled in journalism and was the author of
'Straight Talks to Housewives' in _Trifles_, under the pseudonym
of 'Lady Gussie'; Wragge, who believed that the earth was flat, and
addressed meetings on the subject in Hyde Park on Sundays; and many
others, all interesting to talk to of a morning when work was slack and
time had to be filled in.

Mike found himself, by degrees, growing quite attached to the New
Asiatic Bank.

One morning, early in February, he noticed a curious change in Mr
Waller. The head of the Cash Department was, as a rule, mildly cheerful
on arrival, and apt (excessively, Mike thought, though he always
listened with polite interest) to relate the most recent sayings and
doings of his snub-nosed son, Edward. No action of this young prodigy
was withheld from Mike. He had heard, on different occasions, how he
had won a prize at his school for General Information (which Mike could
well believe); how he had trapped young Mr Richards, now happily
reconciled to Ada, with an ingenious verbal catch; and how he had made
a sequence of diverting puns on the name of the new curate, during the
course of that cleric's first Sunday afternoon visit.

On this particular day, however, the cashier was silent and
absent-minded. He answered Mike's good-morning mechanically, and
sitting down at his desk, stared blankly across the building. There
was a curiously grey, tired look on his face.

Mike could not make it out. He did not like to ask if there was
anything the matter. Mr Waller's face had the unreasonable effect on
him of making him feel shy and awkward. Anything in the nature of