y very primitive method of obtaining your
confidence. But it is better that I should know--"

"Know what? You don't know. I don't know myself. I did not even know
whose the photograph was until--" She hesitated at the look of hurt
wonder in his eyes. "You think I am lying?" she finished angrily.

"I think you are making things unnecessarily difficult. There is no
need for you to explain--anything."

Desire was furious. And helpless. She remembered now that when he had
entered the room he had certainly seen her bending over a photograph.
No wonder her statement that she did not know whose photograph it was
seemed uniquely absurd. There was only one adequate explanation. And
that explanation she wouldn't and couldn't make.

"Very well then," she said loftily. "I shall not explain."

He did not look at her. He had not looked at her since handing her back
John's picture. But he had himself well in hand now. Desire wondered if
she had imagined that greyish pallor, that sudden look of a man struck
down. What possible reason had there been for such an effect anyway?
Desire could see none.

"I came to tell you," he said in his ordinary voice, "that the long
distance call came from Miss Davis. If it is convenient for you and
Aunt, she plans to come along on the evening train. Her cold is quite
better."

"The evening train, tonight?"

"Yes." He smiled. "She is a sudden person. Gone today and here
tomorrow. But you will like her. And you will adore her clothes."

"Are they the very latest?"

"Later than that. Mary always buys yesterday what most women buy
tomorrow."

"Oh," said Desire. "And what does this futurist lady look like?"

Benis considered. "I can't think of anything that she looks like," he
concluded. "She doesn't go in for resemblances. Futurists don't, you
know!"

"Isn't it odd?" said Desire in what she hoped was a casual voice. "So
many of your friends seem to be named Mary."

"I've noticed that myself--lately."

"There are--"

"'Mary Seaton and Mary Beaton and Mary Carmichael and me,'" quoted
Benis gravely.

Desire permitted herself to smile and turning, still smiling, faced
Aunt Caroline; who, for her part, was in anything but a smiling humor.

"I'm glad you take it good-naturedly, Desire," said Aunt Caroline
acidly. "But people who arrive at a moment's warning always annoy me. I
do not require much, but a few days' notice at the least--have you seen
a photograph anywhere about?"

Desire bi