onths' pair. Surely,
though, you don't find the Italian Riviera very amusing?"

"I am abroad for a rest," Hunterleys replied.

Mr. Draconmeyer smiled curiously.

"A rest?" he repeated. "That rather belies your reputation, you know.
They say that you are tireless, even when you are out of office."

Hunterleys turned from the speaker towards his wife.

"I have not tempted fortune myself yet," he observed. "I think that I
shall have a look into the baccarat room. Do you care to stroll that
way?"

Lady Hunterleys rose at once to her feet. Mr. Draconmeyer, however,
intervened. He laid his fingers upon Hunterleys' arm.

"Sir Henry," he begged, "our meeting has been quite unexpected, but in a
sense it is opportune. Will you be good enough to give me five minutes'
conversation?"

"With pleasure," Hunterleys replied. "My time is quite at your disposal,
if you have anything to say."

Draconmeyer led the way out of the crowded room, along the passage and
into the little bar. They found a quiet corner and two easy-chairs.
Draconmeyer gave an order to a waiter. For a few moments their
conversation was conventional.

"I trust that you think your wife looking better for the change?"
Draconmeyer began. "Her companionship is a source of great pleasure and
relief to my poor wife."

"Does the conversation you wish to have with me refer to Lady
Hunterleys?" her husband asked quietly. "If so, I should like to say a
few preliminary words which would, I hope, place the matter at once
beyond the possibility of any misunderstanding."

Draconmeyer moved a little uneasily in his place.

"I have other things to say," he declared, "yet I would gladly hear what
is in your mind at the present moment. You do not, I fear, approve of
this friendship between my wife and Lady Hunterleys."

Hunterleys was uncompromising, almost curt.

"I do not," he agreed. "It is probably no secret to you that my wife and
I are temporarily estranged," he continued. "The chief reason for that
estrangement is that I forbade her your house or your acquaintance."

Draconmeyer was a little taken back. Such extreme directness of speech
was difficult to deal with.

"My dear Sir Henry," he protested, "you distress me. I do not understand
your attitude in this matter at all."

"There is no necessity for you to understand it," Hunterleys retorted
coolly. "I claim the right to regulate my wife's visiting list. She
denies that right."

"Apart from the questio