dy else to do it for him.

He was obliged to question Lucas about the Regent Street Prosser's, of
which, regrettably, he had never heard. He did not, in so many words,
request John Orgreave for the favour of an hour off. He was now out of
his articles, though still by the force of inertia at the office, and
therefore he informed John Orgreave that unless Mr. John had any
objection he proposed to take an hour off. Mr. Enwright was not in.
Lucas knew vaguely of the rendezvous, having somewhere met Laurencine.

From the outside Prosser's was not distinguishable from any other part
of Regent Street. But George could not mistake it, because Miss
Wheeler's car was drawn up in front of the establishment, and Lois was
waiting for him therein. Strange procedure! She smiled and then frowned,
and got out sternly. She said scarcely anything, and he found that he
could make only such silly remarks as: "Hope I'm not late, am I?"

The new Prosser's was a grandiose by-product of chocolate. The firm had
taken the leading ideas of the chief tea-shop companies catering for the
million in hundreds of establishments arranged according to pattern, and
elaborated them with what is called in its advertisements 'cachet.' Its
prices were not as cheap as those of the popular houses, but they could
not be called dear. George and Lois pushed through a crowded lane of
chocolate and confectionery, past a staircase which bore a large notice:
"Please keep to the right." This notice was needed. They came at length
to the main hall, under a dome, with a gallery between the dome and the
ground. The floor was carpeted. The multitudinous small tables had
cloths, flowers, silver, and menus knotted with red satin ribbon. The
place was full of people, people seated at the tables and people walking
about. Above the rail of the gallery could be seen the hats and heads of
more people. People were entering all the time and leaving all the time.
Scores of waitresses, in pale green and white, moved to and fro like an
alien and mercenary population. The heat, the stir, the hum, and the
clatter were terrific. And from on high descended thin, strident music
in a rapid and monotonous rhythm.

"No room!" said George, feeling that he had at last got into the true
arena of the struggle for life.

"Oh yes!" said Lois, with superior confidence.

She bore mercilessly across the floor. Round the edge of the huge room,
beneath the gallery, were a number of little alcoves f