I shook my head with a sigh. “I could have gone,” I said. “A year ago. But I was foolish and worse than foolish⁠—greedy. I risked the substance for the shadow.”

“I comprehend,” said Mr. Porrott. “You speculated?”

I nodded mournfully, but in spite of myself I felt secretly entertained. This ridiculous little man was so portentously solemn.

“Not the Porcupine Oilfields?” he asked suddenly.

I stared. “I thought of them, as a matter of fact, but in the end I plumped for a gold mine in Western Australia.”

My neighbour was regarding me with a strange expression which I could not fathom.

“It is Fate,” he said at last.

“What is Fate?” I asked irritably.