class just as fashions in costume are wont to do at a shorter
interval. When Gammon begged her to feel the "feather" of a beautiful
collie she at length did so with great timidity, and a moment after, to
show how doggy she was becoming, she spoke of the "feather" of a little
black-and-tan, whereat Gammon smiled broadly. On the whole they much
enjoyed themselves, and had a good appetite at dinner time.

The meal was laid for them in a small private room, which smelt
principally of stale tobacco and stale chimney soot. The water-bottle
on the table was encrusted with a white enamel advertisement of
somebody's whisky, and had another such recommendation legible on its
base. The tray used by the girl in attendance was enamelled with the
name of somebody's brandy. On the walls hung three brightly-coloured
calendars, each an advertisement: one of sewing machines, one of a
popular insurance office, one of a local grocery business. The other
mural adornments were old coloured pictures of racehorses and faded
photographs of dogs. A clock on the mantelpiece (not going) showed
across its face the name of a firm that dealt in aerated waters.

Coarse and plentiful were the viands, and Polly did justice to them.
She had excellent teeth, a very uncommon thing in girls of her kind;
but Polly's parents were of country origin. With these weapons she
feared not even the pastry set before her, which it was just possible
to break with an ordinary fork.

Towards the end Gammon grew silent and meditative. He kept gazing at
the windows as if for aid in some calculation. When Polly at last threw
down her cheese-knife, glowing with the thought that she had dined well
at somebody else's expense, he leaned forward on the table, looked her
in the eyes, and began a momentous dialogue.

CHAPTER XIII

GAMMON THE CRAFTY

"What did you want to do such a silly thing as that for?"

Polly stared in astonishment.

"What d'you mean?"

"Why did you let out to Mrs. Clover what you knew?"

The girl's colour deepened by a shade (it was already rich), and her
eyes grew alarmed, suspicious, watchful.

"I didn't let out what I knew," she answered rather confused.

It was Gammon's turn to watch keenly.

"Not all, of course not," he remarked slyly. "But why couldn't you keep
it to yourself that you'd met him?"

Polly's eyes wandered. Gammon smiled with satisfaction.

"I'd have kept that to myself," he said in a friendly way. "I know how
it