Francis Ledsam was himself again, the lightest-hearted and most popular member of his club, still a brilliant figure in the courts, although his appearances there were less frequent, still devoting the greater portion of his time, to his profession, although his work in connection with it had become less spectacular.

One morning, at the corner of Clarges Street and Curzon Street, about three weeks after his visit to the Opera, he came face to face with Sir Timothy Brast.
"Well, my altruistic peerer into other people's affairs, how goes it ?" the latter enquired pleasantly.
"How does it seem, my arch-criminal, to be still breathing God's fresh air ?" Francis retorted in the same vein.

"Make the most of it.

It may not last for ever." Sir Timothy smiled.

He was looking exceedingly well that morning, the very prototype of a man contented with life and his part in it.