"And of such is the Kingdom of Heaven," Jones told himself as the old
man moved away.
He looked about. The great room had filled. Stocks, money, war, the
odour of alcohol, the smell of cigars, the rustling of evening papers,
the sound of animated talk about nothing whatever, the usual atmosphere
had reassembled itself.
From it he turned to the window, to the westering sun, to the motors,
the smart gowns and the women who looked so delightful and of whom all
had their secrets--secrets trivial, momentous, perverse or merely
horrible.
Again he turned. Lennox, who had approached, was addressing him. "You
were at the law school. I have to make a will. Will you help me?"
Serviceably Jones sprang up. "Come to my shop. It is just around the
corner."