ting early. The magic
slowly faded from London; Buckingham Palace lost the fictitious grace
that it has when set in a blue sky. Victoria shivered a little. She felt
tired. She did not know where to go. She was alone. On the seat nearest
to hers two lovers sat together, hand in hand. The man's face was almost
hidden by his cap and by the blue puffs of his pipe; the girl's was
averted towards the ground where, with the ferule of her umbrella, she
lazily drew signs. There was no bitterness in this sight for Victoria.
Her romance had come and gone so long ago that she looked quite casually
at these wanderers in Arcadia. She only knew that she was alone and
cold.

Victoria got up and walked out of the park. It was darkening, and little
by little the lights of London were springing into life. By dint of many
questionings she managed to regain Oxford Street, that spinal column of
London without which the stranger would be lost. Then her course was
easy, and it was with a peculiar feeling of luxuriousness that she
resigned herself to the motor bus that jolted and shook her tired body
until she reached the Arch. More slowly, and with diminished optimism,
she found her way up Edgware Road, where night was now falling. The
emporium was dazzling with lights. Alone the public house rivalled it
and thrust its glare through the settling mist. Victoria closed the door
of Curran's. At once she re-entered its atmosphere; into the warm air
rose the three smells of three legs of mutton.

CHAPTER V

'Mr Wren, ma'am.'

Victoria turned quickly to Carlotta. The girl's face was obtrusively
demure. Some years at Curran's had not dulled in her the interest that
any woman subtly feels in the meeting of the sexes.

'Ask him to come in here, Carlotta,' said Victoria. 'We shan't be
disturbed, shall we?'

'Oh no! ma'am,' said Carlotta, with increasing demureness. 'There is
nobody, nobody. I will show the young gentleman in.'

Victoria walked to the looking-glass which shyly peeped out from the
back of the monumental sideboard. She re-arranged her hair and hurriedly
flicked some dust from the corners of her eyes. All this for Edward, but
she had not seen him for three years. As she turned round she was
confronted by her brother who had gently stolen into the dining-room.
Edward's every movement was unobtrusive. He put one arm round her and
kissed her cheek.

'How are you, Victoria?' he said, looking her in the eyes.

'Oh, I'm alrigh