'

'Can you recognise it?' asked Nancy.

'Well, I shall learn to. And I shall have my wife's portrait painted by
some first-rate chap, never mind what it costs, and hung in the Academy.
That's a great idea of mine--to see my wife's portrait in the Academy.'

His companion laughed.

'Take care, then, that your wife is ornamental.'

'I'll take precious good care of that!' Crewe exclaimed merrily. 'Do you
suppose I should dream of marrying a woman who wasn't good-looking?'

'Don't shout, please. People can hear you.'

'I beg your pardon.' His voice sank to humility. 'That's a bad habit of
mine. But I was going to say--I went to the Academy this year just to
look at the portraits of men's wives. There was nothing particular in
that line. Not a woman I should have felt particularly proud of. Tastes
differ, of course. Mine has altered a good deal in the last ten years. A
man can't trust himself about women till he's thirty or near it.'

'Talk of something else,' Nancy commanded.

'Certainly. There's the sun coming out. You see, I was afraid it would
keep on raining, and you would have an excuse for staying at home.'

'I needed no excuse,' said Nancy. 'If I hadn't wished to come, you may
be sure I should have said so.'

Crewe flashed a look at her.

'Ah, that's how I like to hear you speak! That does one good. Well,
here we are. People used to be fond of going up, they say, just to
pitch themselves down. A good deal of needless trouble, it seems to
me. Perhaps they gave themselves the off-chance of changing their minds
before they got to the top.'

'Or wanted to see if life looked any better from up there,' suggested
Nancy.

'Or hoped somebody would catch them by the coat-tails, and settle a
pension on them out of pity.'

Thus jesting, they began the ascent. Crewe, whose spirits were at high
pressure, talked all the way up the winding stairs; on issuing into
daylight, he became silent, and they stood side by side, mute before the
vision of London's immensity. Nancy began to move round the platform.
The strong west wind lashed her cheeks to a glowing colour; excitement
added brilliancy to her eyes. As soon as she had recovered from the
first impression, this spectacle of a world's wonder served only to
exhilarate her; she was not awed by what she looked upon. In her conceit
of self-importance, she stood there, above the battling millions of men,
proof against mystery and dread, untouched by the voices of the p