lushing and eyes that were unusually
bright. "It's good of your Lordship. Your Lordship is always kind."

"No, Ann, only human. I know what you've been through and I'm glad
you're getting over it---- I have to be away to-night. I shall need some
supper. While you're preparing it, I'll pack."

On the way upstairs he telephoned the garage to send for his car and to
return it within the hour. Then he climbed the last flight to his
bedroom.

While he packed, he kept pausing and knitting his brows. A ridiculous
conviction was forming in his mind. "It couldn't have been," he assured
himself. Yet the more he recalled the man on the pavement the more
certain he was that he had been Steely Jack. But what motive could
Braithwaite have had for calling and why should Ann try to hide the fact
that he had called? He had lost trace of him utterly since that day when
he had handed him Terry's ultimatum at the Savoy. Since then Terry and
he had had many meetings, he did not doubt. Braithwaite's influence
clung to her like her shadow. But if he was so in love with Terry, the
more reason why he should steer clear of Ann. To have called at Brompton
Square would have been asking for a cloudburst. It couldn't have been
Braithwaite. And yet----

And then there was Ann. Since that day when the General's portrait had
appeared in the papers, she had given up watching for letters marked,
"On His Majesty's Service." She had made no further enquiries as to how
his Lordship's friend at the War Office was progressing. Her silence
told its story; she had learned the truth. In what spirit she had
accepted the truth Tabs had no means of guessing. Lady Hamilton, the
little maid-of-all-work, had been the beloved of Nelson. Ann was not
without her precedent. But the maid-of-all-work had become Lady Hamilton
before the Admiral had set eyes on her. Steely Jack was a General, while
Ann was still a servant. Her claims would not meet with much applause if
they were brought before a jury.

To all appearance she had resigned herself to the inevitable. Tabs was
frankly surprised at her magnanimity and fortitude. About her fortitude
there could be no question, but concerning her magnanimity he was not a
little skeptical. More than once he had caught her singing as she went
about her work. She didn't get all the words correctly; she sang them
with improvisions, filling in the gaps where her memory failed.
Throughout the war the song had been sung to men on leav