"
F.F. gazed at him softly compassionate, as if to indicate that nothing
but trouble could be expected under the present political regime. They
examined the tape together.
"Things can't go on much longer like this," observed F.F.
comprehensively, in front of the morning's messages from the capitals of
the world.
"Still," said Mr. Prohack, "we've won the war, haven't we?"
"I suppose we have," said F.F. and sighed.
Mr. Prohack felt that he had no more time for preliminaries, and in
order to cut them short started some ingenious but quite inexcusable
lying.
"You didn't chance to see old Paul Spinner going out as you came in?"
"No," answered F.F. "Why?"
"Nothing. Only a man in the morning-room was wanting to know if he was
still in the Club, and I told him I'd see."
"I hear," said F.F. after a moment, and in a lower voice, "I hear he's
getting up some big new oil scheme."
"Ah!" murmured Mr. Prohack, delighted at so favourable a coincidence,
with a wonderful imitation of casualness. "And what may that be?"
"Nobody knows. Some people would give a good deal to know. But if I'm
any judge of my Spinner they won't know till he's licked off all the
cream. It's marvellous to me how Spinner and his sort can keep on
devoting themselves to the old ambitions while the world's breaking up.
Marvellous!"
"Money, you mean?"
"Personal aggrandisement."
"Well," answered Mr. Prohack, with a judicial, detached air.
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