ket of white roses stood upon
a side-table, a card attached. Flamby glanced at the card. "James
again," she said. "He's some use in the world after all." She composedly
filled a jug with water and placed the flowers in it until she should
have time to arrange them.

"Is Chauvin expecting you this afternoon?" asked Don.

"No, not to-day. I love Chauvin, but I don't think I shall be able to
stay on with him if I am to finish the other eight designs for the War
Office people in time. Please light your pipe. Would you like a drink?
I've got all sorts of things to drink."

"No, thank you, Flamby. We can go out to tea presently."

"No, let's have tea here. I have some gorgeous cakes I got at Fullers'
this morning."

"Right. Better still. I will help."

Flamby tossed her tam-o'-shanter on to a chair, slapped the pockets of
Don's tunic in quest of his cigarette-case, found it, took out and
lighted a cigarette, and then curled herself up in a corner of the
settee, hugging her knees. "Paul thinks I'm fast," she said.

Don, who was lighting his pipe, stared at her so long that the match
burned his fingers and dropped into his cap, which lay beside him on the
floor.

Flamby's visitors speedily acquired the homely trick of hanging up their
hats on the floor. "Flamby!" he said reproachfully, "I know you are
joking, but I don't like you to say such a thing even in jest."

"_Dulce est desipere_," replied Flamby, "but I am not jesting. Oh, that
beastly Latin! Do you remember when I quoted Portia to you? It makes me
go all goosey to think of some of the awful things I have said to
people."

"You have said one thing, Flamby, which I must request you to explain,"
said Don gravely. "Paul is utterly incapable of harbouring an evil
thought about anyone, and equally incapable of misjudging character."

"Ah, I knew you would say that, Don, and it is just that which worries
me so."

"I don't understand."

Flamby snuggled her knees up tighter against her round chin and stared
wistfully straight before her. A ray from the afternoon sun intruded
through the window and touched her wonderful hair into magic flame.
"Paul has altered the lives of a lot of people, hasn't he?" she asked.

"He has. I cannot doubt that he will become the centre of a world-wide
movement. I received a letter only two days ago from a man who was with
us at Oxford, and who entered the Church, assuring me that he had only
awaited such a lead to resign his offi