ay by himself for a
little holiday to a place near here, Hammam R'rirha. He'll be sorry to
miss you. I know how busy you always are, so I suppose you'll only stay
a day or two."

Crayford's keen eyes suddenly fastened upon her.

"Yes, I haven't too much time," he remarked drily.

They all sat down, and again Crayford looked around, stretching out his
short and muscular legs.

"Cute, and no mistake!" he observed, with a sigh, as he pulled at the
tiny beard. "Think of living here now! Pity I'm not a composer, eh,
Alston?"

He ended with a laugh.

"And what's your husband been up to, Mrs. Heath?" he continued, settling
himself more comfortably in his big chair, and pushing his white Homburg
hat backward to leave his brown forehead bare to a tiny breeze which
spoke softly, very gently, of the sea. "You've been over here for a big
bunch of Sundays, Alston tells me, week-days too."

"Oh--" She seemed to be hesitating.

Alston's boyish eyes twinkled with appreciation.

"Well, we came here--we wanted to be quiet."

"You've got out of sight of Broadway, that's certain."

Tea and iced drinks were brought out. They talked of casual matters.
The softness of late afternoon, warm, scented, exotic, dreamed in the
radiant air. And Crayford said:

"It's cute! It's cute!"

He had removed his hat now and almost lay back in his chair. Presently
he said:

"Seems to me years since I've rested like this, Alston!"

"I believe it is many years," said Lake, with a little satisfied laugh.
"I've never seen you do it before."

"'Cepting the cure. And that don't amount to anything."

"Stay and dine, won't you?" said Charmian. "If you're not bored."

"Bored!" said Crayford.

"We'll dine just as we are. I'll go in and see the cook about it."

"Very good of you I'm sure," said Crayford. "But I don't want to put you
out."

"Where are you staying?"

"The Excelsior," said Lake.

"Right down in the town. You must stay. It is cooler here."

She got up and went slowly into the house.

"Stunning figure she's got and no mistake!" observed Crayford, following
her with his eyes. "But I say, Alston, what about this fellow Heath? Now
I'm over here I ought to have a look at what he's up to. She seemed to
want to avoid the subject, I thought. D'you think he's writing on
commission? Or perhaps someone's seen the music. The Metropolitan
crowd--"

They fell into a long discussion on opera prospects, during which Alston
Lake succeeded