d ate the other. He could think of no other way
of disposing of them. He hoped the young women who were watching him
from behind the counter, would think he enjoyed them.

Then he called for a whisky and soda, to take out the exceedingly
beastly taste of the milk; but instantly remembered that old Dick had
said: "Touch no alcohol," so changed the order to another cup of coffee.

This second instalment of coffee made him feel extraordinarily fit and
vigorous.

He put the Infant back into its bag.

The inspector returned.

"We have found your luggage, Mr. West," he said. "If we may have your
keys we can get it out for you."

"Ah, do!" said Ronnie. "Many thanks. Put it on a taxi. I shall leave it
at my Club. I am afraid I was rather vague about it just now; but I had
been given a sleeping draught on board, and was hardly awake when I got
out of the train. I am all right now. Thanks for your help, my good
fellow."

The inspector looked relieved.

Ronnie paid his bill, took up the 'cello, handed his bag to the
inspector, and marched off gaily to claim his luggage.

He felt like conquering the world! The fog was lifting. The roar of the
city sounded more natural. He had an excellent report to make to his
publisher, heaps of "copy" to show him, and then--he was going home to
Helen.

In the taxi he placed the Infant on the seat beside him.

On the whole he felt glad he had told Helen not to meet him at the
station. It was so much more convenient to have plenty of room in the
taxi for his 'cello. It stood so safely on the seat beside him, in its
canvas bag.

As they sped westward he enjoyed looking out at the fog and mud and
general wintry-aspect of London.

He did not feel cold. Aubrey had persuaded him to buy a magnificent
fur-coat at the Hague. He had lived in it ever since, feeling gorgeous
and cosy. Aubrey's ideas of spending money suited him better than
Helen's.

His taxi glided rapidly along the greasy Embankment. Once it skidded on
the tramlines, and Ronnie laid a steadying hand upon the 'cello.

The grey old Thames went rolling by--mighty, resistless, perpetually
useful--right through the heart of busy London.

Ronnie thought of the well-meaning preacher who pointed out to his
congregation, as an instance of the wonderful over-rulings of an
All-wise Providence, the fact that large rivers flowed through great
cities, and small streams through little villages! Ronnie laughed very
much at the recollec