“I want to talk with you, Mr. Crookes,” began Cressler, hurriedly. “I⁠—I made up my mind to it day before yesterday, but I put it off. I had hoped that things would come our way. But I can’t delay now.⁠ ⁠… Mr. Crookes, I can’t stand this any longer. I must get out of the clique. I haven’t the ready money to stand this pace.”

There was a silence. Crookes neither moved nor changed expression. His small eyes fixed upon the other, he waited for Cressler to go on.

“I might remind you,” Cressler continued, “that when I joined your party I expressly stipulated that our operations should not be speculative.”

“You knew⁠—” began Crookes.