with all the latest improvements?' asked Caffyn.

'Not yet,' said Mark, 'but she must know before long.'

'And as for yourself, you consider me such an utterly irreclaimable
blackguard that you can't afford to be seen with me any longer?'
pursued Caffyn.

'My dear fellow,' protested Mark, 'I don't want to judge you. But, as
far as the conclusion goes, I'm afraid it comes to that!'

'Perhaps, it has not quite come to that yet,' said Caffyn, as he drew
his chair closer to Mark's, and, resting one arm on the back, looked
him full in the face with searching intensity. 'Are you sure you have
the right to be so very exclusive?'

If Mark could have controlled his nerves then, he might have been able
to parry a thrust which, had he only known it, was something of an
experiment. As it was, the unexpectedness of it took him off his
guard, just when he thought he was proof against all surprises. The
ghastly change in him told Caffyn that he had struck the right chord
after all, and a diabolical joy lit his eyes as he leaned forward and
touched his arm affectionately.

'You infernal hypocrite!' he said very softly. 'I know all about it.
Do you hear?'

'About _what_?' gasped the miserable man, and then with a flickering
effort at defiance, 'What do you mean?' he asked, 'tell me what you
are hinting at?'

'Keep quiet,' said Caffyn, 'don't excite yourself: they'll notice
something presently if you look like that! Here are some fellows
coming round with the coffee, wait till they have gone, and I'll tell
you.'

Mark had to wait while one man brought him his cup with the milk and
sugar, and another followed with the coffee. His hands shook and upset
the cream as he tried to take up a lump of sugar.

'I wouldn't take milk if I were you,' advised Caffyn. 'Try a _liqueur_
brandy'--a recommendation to which Mark paid no attention.

It seemed an eternity till the men had gone; all the time Mark tried
to believe this was one of the old dreams which had not visited him
for so long, or, if he was really awake, that Caffyn must have got
hold of something else--not _that_; he had had false alarms like this
before, and nothing had come of them.

Caffyn seemed to have forgotten their recent conversation as he
deliberately sipped his coffee and took a cigarette; he offered Mark
one and it was declined. 'What do you suspect me of having done?'
demanded Mark. 'Oh, my dear fellow, I don't _suspect_ you,' replied
Caffyn, 'I know. You can