ou know," Michael said,
"but I don't want to obey dinner-gongs."

"Very noisy and abrupt," she agreed.

Soon they were discussing all kinds of substitutions.

"Mother, what an extraordinary lot you know about noise," Michael
exclaimed.

"Dearest boy, I'm on the committee of a society for the abatement of
London street noises."

"So deeply occupied with reform," he said, patting her hand.

"One must do something," she smiled.

"I know," he asserted. "And therefore you'll let me ride this new
hobby-horse I'm trying without thinking it bucks. Will you?"

"You know perfectly well that you will anyhow," said Mrs. Fane, shaking
her head.

Michael felt justified in letting the conversation end at this
admission. Maurice Avery had invited him to come round to the studio in
order to assist at Castleton's induction, and Michael walked along the
Embankment to 422 Grosvenor Road.

The large attic which ran all the width of the Georgian house was in a
state of utter confusion, in the midst of which Castleton was hard at
work hammering, while Maurice climbed over chairs in eager advice, and
at the Bechstein Grand a tall dark young man was playing melodies from
Tchaikovsky's symphonies.

"Just trying to make this place a bit comfortable," said Castleton. "Do
you know Cunningham?" He indicated the player, and Michael bowed.

"Making it comfortable," Michael repeated. "My first impression was just
the reverse. I suppose it's no good asking you people to give me lunch?"

"Rather, of course," Maurice declared. "Castleton, it's your turn to buy
lunch."

"One extraordinary thing, Michael," said Castleton, "is the way in which
Maurice can always produce a mathematical reason for my doing something.
You'd think he kept a ledger of all our tasks."

"We can send old Mother Wadman if you're tired," Maurice offered.
Castleton, however, seemed to think he wanted some fresh air; so he and
Cunningham went out to buy things to eat.

"I was fairly settled before old Castleton turned up," Maurice
explained, "but we shall be three times as comfortable when he's
finished. He's putting up divans."

Maurice indicated with a gesture the raw material on which Castleton was
at work. They were standing by the window which looked out over
multitudinous roofs.

"What a great rolling sense of human life they do give," said Michael.
"A sea really with telegraph poles and wires for masts and rigging, and
all that washing like flotillas of sm