But, happily for the investor, forgery is an affair
of practice. And as Morris sat surrounded by examples of his uncle's
signature and of his own incompetence, insidious depression stole upon
his spirits. From time to time the wind wuthered in the chimney at his
back; from time to time there swept over Bloomsbury a squall so dark
that he must rise and light the gas; about him was the chill and the
mean disorder of a house out of commission--the floor bare, the sofa
heaped with books and accounts enveloped in a dirty table-cloth, the
pens rusted, the paper glazed with a thick film of dust; and yet these
were but adminicles of misery, and the true root of his depression lay
round him on the table in the shape of misbegotten forgeries.
'It's one of the strangest things I ever heard of,' he complained. 'It
almost seems as if it was a talent that I didn't possess.' He went once
more minutely through his proofs. 'A clerk would simply gibe at them,'
said he. 'Well, there's nothing else but tracing possible.'
He waited till a squall had passed and there came a blink of scowling
daylight.
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