much given to what Kit described as "his drop." He had apparently left
home under something of a cloud, though whether this had anything to do
with "father's trousers" I never knew. Kit said she had not seen him
for some years, though each had known the other's address. It seemed
that the Blake family were not great correspondents.

"Have you ever met John Hatton?" asked Malim one night after dinner at
his flat.

"John Hatton?" I answered. "No. Who is he?"

"A parson. A very good fellow. You ought to know him. He's a man with a
number of widely different interests. We were at Trinity together. He
jumps from one thing to another, but he's frightfully keen about
whatever he does. Someone was saying that he was running a boys' club
in the thickest part of Lambeth."

"There might be copy in it," I said.

"Or ideas for advertisements for Julian," said Malim. "Anyway, I'll
introduce you to him. Have you ever been in the Barrel?"

"What's the Barrel?"

"The Barrel is a club. It gets the name from the fact that it's the
only club in England that allows, and indeed urges, its members to sit
on a barrel. John Hatton is sometimes to be found there. Come round to
it tomorrow night."

"All right," I replied. "Where is it?"