nd even with the prospect of the following night before him, he
chafed a little as he reflected that until then he must stand aside and
let others claim her. In a fit of restlessness he abandoned his usual
table in the House of Commons grillroom, and dined instead at the
Sheridan Club, where he drank a great deal of champagne and absorbed
with ready appreciation and amusement the philosophy of the man of
pleasure. This was one of the impulses which kept his nature pliant
even in the midst of these days of crisis.

CHAPTER XII

Whilst Tallente was trying to make up for the years of pleasant
good-fellowship which his overstudious life had cost him and to recover
touch with the friends of his earlier days, Stephen Dartrey, filled with
a queer sense of impending disaster, was climbing the steps to Nora's
flat. On the last landing he lingered for a moment and clenched his
fingers.

"I am a coward," he reflected sadly. "I have asked for this and it has
come."

He stood for a moment perfectly still, with half-closed eyes, seeking
for self-control very much in the fashion of a man who says a prayer to
himself. Then he climbed the last few stairs, rang the bell and held
out both his hands to Nora, who answered it herself.

"Commend my punctuality," he began.

"Why call attention to the one and only masculine virtue?" she replied.
"Let me take your coat."

He straightened his tie in front of the looking-glass and turned to look
at her with something like wonder in his eyes.

"Dear hostess," he exclaimed, "what has come to you?"

"An epoch of vanity," she declared, turning slowly around that he might
appreciate better the clinging folds of her new black gown. "Don't dare
to say that you don't like it, for heaven only knows what it cost me!"

"It isn't only your gown--it's your hair."

"Coiffured," she confided, "by an artist. Not an ordinary hairdresser
at all. He only works for a few of our aristocracy and one or two
leading ladies on the stage. I pulled it half down and built it up
again, but it's an improvement, isn't it?"

"It suits you," he admitted. "But--but your colour!"

"Natural--absolutely natural," she insisted. "You can wet your finger
and try if you like. It's excitement. If you look into the depths of
my wonderful eyes--I have got wonderful eyes, haven't I?"

"Marvellous."

"You will see that I am suffering from suppressed excitement. To-night
is quite an epoch. To tell you the truth, I am rat