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S he dressed for dinner that evening, Smith realised the absurdity of the doctrine of free will. Here was he, as free a subject as ever raised his glass to the toast of "The King, God bless him!" continuing in a false position, deliberately aiding and abetting well, perhaps not a fraud, but at least a misunderstanding.

What would his uncle say? What would his Aunt Charlotte not say, and it was always the things that Mrs. Compton-Stacey refrained from saying that con- stituted her a power in the family councils. Above all, what would Peters "look" (and Peters' "look" had been known to pierce the epidermis of a profiteer) if they could see the heir to the Hildreth baronetcy and estates deliberately taking advantage of his likeness to another man.

Why was he doing it?

"Confound the stud!"

For the next minute his whole attention was occupied in retrieving the collar-stud that had disappeared some- where inside his shirt. Having dug it out, he picked up the thread of his previous preoccupation.

Why was he staying on? He could hire a car to take him to Norwich, and so reach Cromer, the destina- tion he had planned. No! he preferred to remain on and reap the whirlwind of another man's sowing.

Why? 130