And he, Denry, had
done it. The cost was prodigious, ridiculously and dangerously beyond
his means. He could find no rational excuse for the deed. But he had
done it. And men again wondered. Men had wondered when he led the
Countess out to waltz. That was nothing to this. What! A smooth-chinned
youth giving houses away--out of mere, mad, impulsive generosity.
And men said, on reflection, "Of course, that's just the sort of thing
Machin _would_ do!" They appeared to find a logical connection
between dancing with a Countess and tossing a house or so to a poor
widow. And the next morning every man who had been in the Sports Club
that night was remarking eagerly to his friends: "I say, have you heard
young Machin's latest?"
And Denry, inwardly aghast at his own rashness, was saying to himself:
"Well, no one but me would ever have done that!"
He was now not simply a card; he was _the_ card.
CHAPTER III
THE PANTECHNICON
I
"How do you do, Miss Earp?" said Denry, in a worldly manner, which he
had acquired for himself by taking the most effective features of the
manners of several prominent citizens, and piecing them together so
that, as a whole, they formed Denry's manner.
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