fferent level--level at which each seemed to be
assuring the other that intercourse between them could never be aught
but utterly sincere thenceforward, and that indeed in future
they would constitute a little society of their own, ideal in its
organization.

"Then you're too modest," she said decidedly. "There was no one here
to-night who's more respected than you are. No one! Immediately I
first spoke to you--I daresay you don't remember that afternoon at the
Grand Babylon Hotel!--I knew you weren't like the rest. And don't I
know them? Don't I know them?"

"But how did you know I'm not like the rest?" asked Edward Henry. The
line which she was taking had very much surprised him--and charmed
him. The compliment, so serious and urgent in tone, was intensely
agreeable, and it made an entirely new experience in his career. He
thought: "Oh! there's no mistake about it. These London women are
marvellous! They're just as straight and in earnest as the best of
our little lot down there. But they've got something else. There's
no comparison!" The unique word to describe the indescribable floated
into his head: "Scrumptious!" What could not life be with such
semi-divine creatures? He dreamt of art drawing-rooms softly shaded at
midnight. And his attitude towards even poetry was modified.

"I knew you weren't like the rest," said she, "by your look. By the
way you say everything you _do_ say. We all know it. And I'm sure
you're far more than clever enough to be perfectly aware that we all
know it. Just see how everyone looked at you to-night!"

Yes, he had in fact been aware of the glances.

"I think I ought to tell you," she went on, "that I was rather unfair
to you that day in talking about my cousin--in the taxi. You were
quite right to refuse to go into partnership with her. She thinks so
too. We've talked it over, and we're quite agreed. Of course it did
seem hard--at the time, and her bad luck in America seemed to make it
worse. But you were quite right. You can work much better alone. You
must have felt that instinctively--far quicker than we felt it."

"Well," he murmured, confused, "I don't know--"

Could this be she who had too openly smiled at his skirmish with an
artichoke?

"Oh, Mr. Machin!" she burst out. "You've got an unprecedented
opportunity, and thank Heaven you're the man to use it! We're all
expecting so much from you, and we know we shan't be disappointed."

"D'ye mean the theatre?" he asked, al