Partry was already on the Clubb’s pay-roll when I was given the honour of membership, and I do not presume to suggest that he be removed now. To fire Partry at the current stage of the Auction would in any event only incite the gravest Unease in the mind of the Buyer. In perusing this Log, however, I cannot but note that all of the Clubb’s impressions of the Tatler-Lock, save a few fleeting and poorly resolved glimpses through the Window, have been supplied by Mr. Partry. To be certain that he has not been, like Hamlet’s uncle, pouring Poison into your Ears while you sleep, I resolved to accompany Mr. Partry to the Tatler-Lock on his visit this evening. Dr. Waterhouse, because he is concerned for my welfare, advised me not to go, and, because he knows me well, surrendered before his warnings became tedious. To this plan Partry expressed a violent opposition, which at first excited my suspicions; but after the first flush of astonishment had subsided he gave his assent. He did so grudgingly at first, but upon seeing how my appearance was transfigured by a few moments’ work with Latex and Spirit-Gum, a change of clothing, and adoption of a different posture and gait, he made peace with the idea, and offered no further complaints. We set out for the Tatler-Lock ten minutes apart. I went first, on the pretext of being a seller of watches, fallen upon hard times, who wished to replenish his inventory at prices not within reach of honest men. Only after I had ensconced myself in the Lobby did Mr. Partry enter the building, carrying the chest, wrapped up in a black cloth. Contained within it was the first page of the Receipt prepared by me and Dr. Waterhouse.