_ I feel at these foolish times. I've never got used to them
yet."

"Ah, don't you understand," she pressed, "that if I give you an
advantage I'm completely at your mercy?"

"Well, what mercy," he groaned, "do you deserve?"

She waited a little, brightly composed--then she indicated her inner
shrine, the whereabouts of her precious picture. "Go and look at her
again and you'll see."

His protest was large, but so, after a moment, was his compliance--his
heavy advance upon the other room, from just within the doorway of which
the great Lawrence was serenely visible. Mr. Bender gave it his eyes
once more--though after the fashion verily of a man for whom it had now
no freshness of a glamour, no shade of a secret; then he came back to
his hostess. "Do you call giving me an advantage squeezing me by your
sweet modesty for less than I may possibly bear?"

"How can I say fairer," she returned, "than that, with my backing about
the other picture, which I've passed you my word for, thrown in, I'll
resign myself to whatever you may be disposed--characteristically!--to
give for this one."

"If it's a question of resignation," said Mr. Bender, "you mean of
course what I may be disposed--characteristically!--_not_ to give."

She played on him for an instant all her radiance. "Yes then, you dear
sharp rich thing!"

"And you take in, I assume," he pursued, "that I'm just going to lean on
you, for what I want, with the full weight of a determined man."

"Well," she laughed, "I promise you I'll thoroughly obey the direction
of your pressure."

"All right then!" And he stopped before her, in his unrest, monumentally
pledged, yet still more massively immeasurable. "How'll you have it?"

She bristled as with all the possible beautiful choices; then she shed
her selection as a heaving fruit-tree might have dropped some round
ripeness. It was for her friend to pick up his plum and his privilege.
"Will you write a cheque?"

"Yes, if you want it right away." To which, however, he added, clapping
vainly a breast-pocket: "But my cheque-book's down in my car."

"At the door?" She scarce required his assent to touch a bell. "I can
easily send for it." And she threw off while they waited: "It's so sweet
your 'flying round' with your cheque-book!"

He put it with promptitude another way. "It flies round pretty well with
_Mr_----!"

"Mr. Bender's cheque-book--in his car," she went on to Gotch, who had
answered her summons.

The