done, and somebody has to do it. And I never did
trust that Mimi Winstock, and I'm very sorry she's gone to Charlie. That
was a great mistake. However, it's got nothing to do with me." She
shrugged her agreeable shoulders. "But my necklace has got something to
do with me."

Mr. Prohack thought "What would Lady Massulam do in such a crisis? And
how would Lady Massulam look in a dressing-gown and her hair down? I
shall never know." Meanwhile he liked Eve's demeanour--its vivacity and
simplicity. "I'm afraid I'm still in love with her," the strange fellow
reflected, and said aloud: "You'd better kiss me. I shall have an awful
headache if you don't." And Eve reluctantly kissed him, with the look of
a martyr on her face.

Within a few minutes Mr. Prohack had dismissed his wife, and was
descending the stairs in a dressing-gown which rivalled hers. The sight
of him in the unknown world of the basement floor, as he searched
unaided for the servants' hall, created an immense sensation,--far
greater than he had anticipated. A nice young girl, whom he had never
seen before and as to whom he knew nothing except that she was probably
one of his menials, was so moved that she nearly had an accident with a
tea-tray which she was carrying.

"What is your name?" Mr. Prohack benignly asked.

"Selina, sir."

"Where are you going with that tea-tray and newspaper?"

"I was just taking it upstairs to Machin, sir. She's not feeling well
enough to get up yet, sir."

Mr. Prohack comprehended the greatness of the height to which Machin had
ascended. Machin, a parlourmaid, drinking tea in bed, and being served
by a lesser creature, who evidently regarded Machin as a person of high
power and importance on earth! Mr. Prohack saw that he was unacquainted
with the fundamental realities of life in Manchester Square.

"Well," said he. "You can get some more tea for Machin. Give me that."
And he took the tray. "No, you can keep the newspaper."

The paper was _The Daily Picture_. As he held the tray with one hand and
gave the paper back to Selina with the other, his eye caught the
headlines: "West End Sensation. Mrs. Prohack's Pearls Pinched." He
paled; but he was too proud a man to withdraw the paper again. No doubt
_The Daily Picture_ would reach him through the customary channels after
Machin had done with it, accompanied by the usual justifications about
the newsboy being late; he could wait.

"Which is the servants' hall," said he. Selin