ght flashed before him in broad, steady flares.

"Brun, Brun," he cried.

"All right," a voice from many miles away answered him.

He was seized with the determination to survive. They thought that they
could "down" him, but they should see that they were mistaken; his rage
rising, he was no longer Dr. Christopher of Harley Street, but something
savage, lawless beyond even his own control. He drove with his arms;
curses met him and someone drove back into him and a ridiculous face
with staring eyes that stupidly pleaded and a nose that was white and
trembling and a mouth that dribbled at the corners came up against his.

"Keep back, can't you?" someone shouted.

"Brun, Brun," he called again, and then was conscious that bodies were
giving way before him. His hand met a stomach covered with cloth and
little hard buttons, and then coming against a woman's arm soft and
warm, Christopher had instantly gained possession of his soul once more.

"Hope I didn't hurt you," he heard himself saying, then, some barrier of
legs and bodies yielding, found that he was flung out, away, stumbling,
in spite of himself, on to his knee.

He caught someone by the arm, and it was Brun.

"Good Lord!" said Christopher.

"It's all right," answered Brun. "We're in Half Moon Street. We're out
of it."

II

Somewhere in the peaceful retirement behind the clubs they surveyed one
another and then laughed. Brun--the dapper perfect Brun--had a bleeding
cheek, a torn waistcoat, and a large and very unbecoming tear in his
trousers. He was half angry and half amused--finally a survey of
Christopher, with mud on his nose and his collar hanging from one button
and revealing a fat red neck, restored his good temper.

"You'd better come back with me," said Christopher, "and be cleaned up."

They went back to Harley Street and half an hour later were sitting
quietly in easy chairs, with the house as though it were made of
cotton-wool, so silent and hidden was it, about them.

Both men were excited; Christopher had been changed by the events of the
last few weeks, and Brun, if he had not been so personally involved, had
seen enough to excite his most eager curiosity and speculation.

Brun's sharp little eyes, flashing across the tip of his cigar, sought
Christopher's large comfortable face, fell from there over his large
comfortable body, down at last to his large comfortable boots.

"Well ... First time I've seen a Continental crowd in Engl