On ascertaining the destination, he admitted circumstances altered
cases; where business was concerned, private interests had to give way.
He explained that some of his present irritation was due to the fact
that, at a Bohemian concert the previous evening, an elderly gentleman
had been pointed out to him as the representative of an important
Sunday newspaper; the comic singer who gave the information,
encountered a few minutes since in Marylebone Road, confessed that it
was one of his jokes. "And all the drinks I stood," complained
Bulpert, "and all the amiable remarks I made, absolutely wasted!"
Gertie, apparelled in her finest and best, went at the hour of seven,
after Bulpert and her aunt had quarrelled regarding the best and
speediest mode of transit, to make her way to King's Road, Chelsea.
There, in a turning she twice walked by without noticing, she found a
house with several brass knobs at the side of the door. A maid
answered her ring.

"Sounds as though they're in the studio," remarked the maid, with a
wink. "What name?"

The servant opened the door and gave the announcement, but in the
tumult it was not heard. Madame's husband was informing Madame in a
loud voice that the most unfortunate day in his life was the occasion
when he allowed her to drag him into a registrar's office. Gertie went
back a few steps, and the maid repeated the name.

"You dear!" cried Madame, coming forward pleasantly. "This is my
husband. You know him by name, I expect." She whispered, "The
celebrated river painter. Most successful. And such a worker. Never
idle for a moment."

"How d'ye do?" said Mr. Jacks, coming forward casually. "Sorry I'm
just going out. What's the night like?"

Madame switched on the electric light, and Gertie could see that the
room suggested a large cucumber frame with a sloping glass roof and
windows at the far end. On a raised square platform in a corner stood
a draped lay figure, not, apparently, quite sober.

"Well," said Madame's husband, after glancing again at the visitor, "if
it's fine, I don't know that there's any special necessity for me to
go. What do you say, darling?" This to his wife.

"Please yourself, Digby, my sweet. If you think you can put up with
our company, I am sure Miss Higham and myself will be delighted if you
can stay. Mr. Jacks," she explained to Gertie, "is naturally attracted
to his club, not only because he finds there all the latest news
concerning