wyer. I don't know what it means."

Mrs. Larne smiled. "My dear boy, it's all right. You needn't be so
squeamish. I want it to be quite on a business footing."

Restraining a fearful inclination to blurt out: "It's not going to be on
any footing!" Bob Pillin mumbled: "I must go; I'm late."

"And when will you be able---?"

"Oh! I'll--I'll send--I'll write. Good-bye!" And suddenly he found
that Mrs. Larne had him by the lapel of his coat. The scent of violets
and fur was overpowering, and the thought flashed through him: 'I believe
she only wanted to take money off old Joseph in the Bible. I can't leave
my coat in her hands! What shall I do?'

Mrs. Larne was murmuring:

"It would be so sweet of you if you could manage it today"; and her hand
slid over his chest. "Oh! You have brought your cheque-book--what a
nice boy!"

Bob Pillin took it out in desperation, and, sitting down at the bureau,
wrote a cheque similar to that which he had torn and burned. A warm kiss
lighted on his eyebrow, his head was pressed for a moment to a furry
bosom; a hand took the cheque; a voice said: "How delightful!" and a
sigh immersed him in a bath of perfume. Backing to the door, he gasped:

"Don't mention it; and--and don't tell Phyllis, please. Good-bye!"

Once through the garden gate, he thought: 'By gum! I've done it now.
That Phyllis should know about it at all! That beast Ventnor!'

His face grew almost grim. He would go and see what that meant anyway!

3

Mr. Ventnor had not left his office when his young friend's card was
brought to him. Tempted for a moment to deny his own presence, he
thought: 'No! What's the good? Bound to see him some time!' If he had
not exactly courage, he had that peculiar blend of self-confidence and
insensibility which must needs distinguish those who follow the law; nor
did he ever forget that he was in the right.

"Show him in!" he said.

He would be quite bland, but young Pillin might whistle for an
explanation; he was still tormented, too, by the memory of rich curves
and moving lips, and the possibilities of better acquaintanceship.

While shaking the young man's hand his quick and fulvous eye detected at
once the discomposure behind that mask of cheek and collar, and relapsing
into one of those swivel chairs which give one an advantage over men more
statically seated, he said:

"You look pretty bobbish. Anything I can do for you?"

Bob Pillin, in the fix