nto a fit
of uncontrollable laughter. She sat down upon the edge of a couch and
wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Oh, you strange, you wonderful person!" she exclaimed. "You want to buy
an estate and you want to borrow twelve thousand pounds, and you know
where Beatrice is and you won't tell me, and you are fully convinced,
because you burst into a house through the wall, that you saved poor
Pritchard from being poisoned, and you don't possess a dress suit! Never
mind, as it happens it doesn't matter about the dress suit. You shall
take me out as you are."

Tavernake felt in his pockets and remembered that he had only thirty
shillings with him.

"Here, carry my purse," she said carelessly. "We are going downstairs to
the smaller restaurant. I have been traveling since six o'clock, and I
am starving."

"But how about my clothes?" Tavernake objected. "Will they be all
right?"

"It doesn't matter where we are going," she answered. "You look very
well as you are. Come and let me put your tie straight."

She came close to him and her fingers played for a moment with his tie.
She was very near to him and she laughed deliberately into his face.
Tavernake held himself quite stiff and felt foolish. He also felt
absurdly happy.

"There," she remarked, when she had arranged it to her satisfaction,
"you look all right now. I wonder," she added, half to herself, "what
you do look like. Something Colonial and forceful, I think. Never
mind, help me on with my cloak and come along. You are a most
respectable-looking escort, and a very useful one."

Although Tavernake was nominally the host, it was Elizabeth who selected
the table and ordered the supper. There were very few other guests in
the room, the majority being down in the larger restaurant, but among
these few Tavernake noticed two of the girls from the chorus at the
Atlas. Elizabeth had chosen a table from which she had a view of the
door, and she took the seat facing it. From the first Tavernake felt
certain that she was watching for some one.

"Talk to me now, please, about this speculation," she insisted. "I
should like to know all about it, and whether you are sure that I shall
get ten per cent for my money."

Tavernake was in no way reluctant. It was a safe topic for conversation,
and one concerning which he had plenty to say. But after a time she
stopped him.

"Well," she said, "I have discovered at any rate one subject on which
you can be fluent. Now I h