at the door, holding
the handle thereof. Mr. Prohack, with a gift of dissimulation equal to
Carthew's own, gave him an address in Bond Street.

"I have another very urgent appointment," said Mr. Prohack to Miss
Winstock as he sat down beside her. And he took his diary from his
pocket and gazed at it intently, frowning, though there was nothing
whatever on its page except the printed information that the previous
Sunday was the twenty-fourth after Trinity, and a warning: "If you have
omitted to order your new diary it would be well to do so NOW to prevent
disappointment."

"It's awfully good of you to have me here," said Miss Winstock.

"It is," Mr. Prohack admitted. "And so far as I can see you've done
nothing to deserve it. You were very wrong to get chatting with my
chauffeur, for example."

"I felt that all the time. But he has such a powerful individuality."

"He may have. But what I pay him for is to drive my car, not to put his
passengers into a semi-hypnotic state. Do you know why I am taking you
about like this?"

"I hope it's because you are kind-hearted."

"Not at all. Do you think I should do it if you were fifty, fat and a
fright? Of course I shouldn't. And no one knows that better than you.
I'm doing it because you're young and charming and slim and attractive
and smart. Though forty-six, I am still a man. The chief difference
between me and most other men is that I know and openly admit my
motives. That's what makes me so dangerous. You should beware of me.
Take note that I haven't asked you what you're been saying to Carthew.
Nor shall I ask him. Now what exactly do you want me to do?"

"Only not to let the law case about the accident go any further."

"And are you in a position to pay the insurance company for the damage
to my car?"

"Oh! Mr. Carrel Quire will pay."

"Are you sure? Are you quite sure that Mr. Carrel Quire is not spending
twice as much as his ministerial salary, that salary being the whole of
his financial resources except loans from millionaires who will accept
influence instead of interest? I won't enquire whether Mr. Carrel Quire
pays your salary regularly. If he does, it furnishes the only instance
of regularity in the whole of his gorgeous career. If our little affair
becomes public it might ruin Mr. Carrel Quire as a politician--at the
least it would set him back for ten years. And I am particularly anxious
to ruin Mr. Carrel Quire. In doing so I shall accomplish a pat