I don't think that a mere Jones or Brown
could have fished out from the depths of the Incredible such a colossal
manifestation of human folly as that man did. But it may be that I am
underestimating the alacrity of human folly in rising to the bait. No
doubt I am. The greed of that absurd monster is incalculable,
unfathomable, inconceivable. The career of de Barral demonstrates that
it will rise to a naked hook. He didn't lure it with a fairy tale. He
hadn't enough imagination for it . . . "
"Was he a foreigner?" I asked. "It's clearly a French name. I suppose
it _was_ his name?"
"Oh, he didn't invent it. He was born to it, in Bethnal Green, as it
came out during the proceedings. He was in the habit of alluding to his
Scotch connections. But every great man has done that. The mother, I
believe, was Scotch, right enough. The father de Barral whatever his
origins retired from the Customs Service (tide-waiter I think), and
started lending money in a very, very small way in the East End to people
connected with the docks, stevedores, minor barge-owners, ship-chandlers,
tally clerks, all sorts of very small fry.
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