He and Fenwick had been friends now--in some respects, close friends--for a good many years.

Of late, they had met rarely, and neither of the men was a good correspondent.

But the friendship, the strong sense of congruity and liking, persisted.

It had sprung, originally--unexpectedly enough--from that loan made to Fenwick in his days of stress and poverty; and there were many who prophesied that it would come to an end with Fenwick's success.
Watson had no interest in and small tolerance for the prosperous.

His connexion with Cuningham, in spite of occasional letters, had dropped long ago, ever since that clever Scotch painter had shown himself finally possessed of the usual Scotch power to capture London and a competence.