The Glitter on the Snow 87
air of a Worshipful Master calling the Lodge to order,
“TI said to myself when I met you last night, ‘it’s
better to be born lucky than rich, and there’s a man
who was born lucky.’ ”
It was perfectly true. I had never been able to do
anything of my own abilities, and after all I had
tumbled into a reasonably good fortune.
‘ You’ve got the touch, Pen,’ he said, with animation.
“* Any time you're out of a job, I'll give you ten thousand
a year as a mascot.”
Lou and I were both intensely excited. We could
hardly find the patience to listen to the details of our
friend’s plan. The figures were convincing; but the
effect was simply to dazzle us. We had never dreamed
of wealth on this scale.
I got the vision for the first time in my life of the
power that wealth confers, and I realised equally for
the first time how vast were my real ambitions.
The man was right, too, clearly enough, about my
being lucky. My luck in the war had been prodigious.
Then there was this inheritance, and Lou on the top
of that; and here I’d met old Feccles by a piece of
absolute chance, and there was this brilliant investment.
That was the word—he was careful to point out that
it was not a speculation, strictly speaking—absolutely
waiting for me.
We were so overjoyed that we could hardly grasp
the practical details. The amount required was four
thousand nine hundred and fifty pounds.
Of course, there was no difficulty in getting a trifle
like that, but as I told Feccles, it would mean my
selling out some beastly stock or something which
might take two or three days. There was no time to
lose; because the option would lapse if it weren’t
taken up within the week, and it was now Wednesday.
However, Feccles helped me to draft a wire to Wolfe
to explain the urgency, and Feccles was to call on
Saturday at nine o'clock with the papers.
Meanwhile, of course, he wouldn’t let me down, but
D.D.F. G