n refined, delicate,
distinguished and full of witty and gracious small-talk. That she had
played the heroine of "Flower of the Heart" four hundred times, and
the heroine of "The Grenadier" four hundred and fifty times, and the
heroine of "The Wife's Ordeal" nearly five hundred times, made it
incumbent upon her, in Edward Henry's subconscious opinion, to possess
all the talents of a woman of the world and all the virgin freshness
of a girl. Which shows how cruelly stupid Edward Henry was in
comparison with the enlightened rest of us.

Why (he protested secretly), she was even tongue-tied!

"Glad to meet you, Mr. Machin," she said awkwardly, in a weak voice,
with a peculiar gesture as she shook hands. Then, a mechanical,
nervous giggle; and then silence!

"Happy to make your acquaintance, sir," said Mr. Seven Sachs, and the
arch-famous American actor-author also lapsed into silence. But the
silence of Mr. Seven Sachs was different from Rose Euclid's. He
was not shy. A dark and handsome, tranquil, youngish man, with
a redoubtable square chin, delicately rounded at the corners, he
strikingly resembled his own figure on the stage; and moreover, he
seemed to regard silence as a natural and proper condition. He simply
stood, in a graceful posture, with his muscles at ease, and waited.
Mr. Bryany, behind, seemed to be reduced in stature, and to have
become apologetic for himself in the presence of greatness.

Still, Mr. Bryany did say something.

Said Mr. Bryany:

"Sorry to hear you've been seedy, Mr. Machin!"

"Oh, yes!" Rose Euclid blurted out, as if shot. "It's very good of you
to ask us up here."

Mr. Seven Sachs concurred, adding that he hoped the illness was not
serious.

Edward Henry said it was not.

"Won't you sit down, all of you?" said Edward Henry.
"Miss--er--Euclid--"

They all sat down except Mr. Bryany.

"Sit down, Bryany," said Edward Henry. "I'm glad to be able to return
your hospitality at the Turk's Head."

This was a blow for Mr. Bryany, who obviously felt it, and grew even
more apologetic as he fumbled with assumed sprightliness at a chair.

"Fancy your being here all the time!" said he. "And me looked for you
everywhere--"

"Mr. Bryany," Seven Sachs interrupted him calmly, "have you got those
letters off?"

"Not yet, sir."

Seven Sachs urbanely smiled. "I think we ought to get them off
to-night."

"Certainly," agreed Mr. Bryany with eagerness, and moved towards the
door.

"Her