subject further.
This has been a great shock to me. One can only hope in time to live it
down. That," she added tragically, "is all."

It had happened six months before, and at the time had filled Myra with
curiosity and also with a touch of horror. Was it wise of her to make
appointments with a man who had been so described? Had not her feeling
of compassion for an old colleague--one, moreover, whom she had found
sympathetic--carried her too far? This was not at all the kind of thing
she had come out to do. But--well, she had done it. And if the satyr
added punctuality to his other vices, he would be waiting outside for
her.

He was there. He had changed his car as well as his clothes. He did not
look poor. He looked as if he owned that car and a good deal of the rest
of the earth.

"I hope you don't mind," he said. "I thought this open car might be
useful. If you would be kind enough to take the seat beside me we could
talk as we go. I thought, as it was such a ripping morning, you might
like to drive into the country somewhere for lunch. But that must be
just as you like, of course."

"It is exactly what I like. Let's see. We've got lots of time before
lunch. You shall choose where we go."

"If you don't mind lunching a little late, we might do Brighton."

"Yes, we lunch at Brighton," she said decisively. The spirit of
adventure was hot within her. She had meant the day to be rather
exciting. It was more than fulfilling expectations.

As they crawled through the traffic she asked him how he had persuaded
his firm to let her have the open car instead of the other. She was told
that it was the policy of his people to oblige a customer in every
possible way, and that they had made no trouble. Then she spoke of
things she had seen at the National Gallery, and found him just as
enthusiastic about art as she had done once in the old days at the
school, when chance gave them a few minutes' talk together. But it was
not till they sat at lunch in a good little hotel overlooking the sea
that they became confidential.

"I gather," he said, "that you knew that Mrs Dewlop sacked me."

"She told all of us."

"Did she say why?"

"Not exactly. She said that you were a satyr. I--I didn't believe that."

"Well, I'll tell you exactly what I did. I kissed Dora Stenson."

This was a blow. "I don't think I want to hear about it," said Myra
coldly.

"It's all very well," said Davenant mournfully, "but I'd had very little