be quiet. He had a gift for story-telling, and his adventures lost
nothing of their romance and their laughter in his narration. He played in
all of them a gallant, humorous part. Mildred, her eyes shining with
excitement, urged him on. He poured out anecdote after anecdote. When the
lights began to be turned out she was astonished.

"My word, the evening has gone quickly. I thought it wasn't more than half
past nine."

They got up to go and when she said good-bye, she added:

"I'm coming to have tea at Philip's room tomorrow. You might look in if
you can."

"All right," he smiled.

On the way back to Pimlico Mildred talked of nothing but Griffiths. She
was taken with his good looks, his well-cut clothes, his voice, his
gaiety.

"I am glad you like him," said Philip. "D'you remember you were rather
sniffy about meeting him?"

"I think it's so nice of him to be so fond of you, Philip. He is a nice
friend for you to have."

She put up her face to Philip for him to kiss her. It was a thing she did
rarely.

"I have enjoyed myself this evening, Philip. Thank you so much."

"Don't be so absurd," he laughed, touched by her appreciation so that he
felt the moisture come to his eyes.

She opened her door and just before she went in, turned again to Philip.

"Tell Harry I'm madly in love with him," she said.

"All right," he laughed. "Good-night."

Next day, when they were having tea, Griffiths came in. He sank lazily
into an arm-chair. There was something strangely sensual in the slow
movements of his large limbs. Philip remained silent, while the others
chattered away, but he was enjoying himself. He admired them both so much
that it seemed natural enough for them to admire one another. He did not
care if Griffiths absorbed Mildred's attention, he would have her to
himself during the evening: he had something of the attitude of a loving
husband, confident in his wife's affection, who looks on with amusement
while she flirts harmlessly with a stranger. But at half past seven he
looked at his watch and said:

"It's about time we went out to dinner, Mildred."

There was a moment's pause, and Griffiths seemed to be considering.

"Well, I'll be getting along," he said at last. "I didn't know it was so
late."

"Are you doing anything tonight?" asked Mildred.

"No."

There was another silence. Philip felt slightly irritated.

"I'll just go and have a wash," he said, and to Mildred he added: "Would
you like