CHAPTER XXX

Summer progressed with all the glory of unclouded skies and burning sun. The heat seemed to radiate from the pavements of Basinghall Street and Mincing Lane, but the brothers Underwood zealously continued their task of money-getting. Towards the middle of July, however, Stephen began to show signs of uneasiness. He looked at the calendar one morning as he and his brother divested themselves of their grey Homburg hats and tucked their gloves neatly behind the pegs. "George Henry," he confided, "I feel that any day n…