ings so,"
he added.

"Didn't you feel it?"

"I felt it, didactically, but not dramatically. It's a big sermon and a
poor play."

"I feel as if I had had an appendicitis operation, and I am glad it is
over."

"I must meet young Richard Bennett. He has contributed to the big issues
of the day. He's a fine actor. He must be an intelligent man."

For the rest of the way they drove in silence.

"Tired?" Jarvis asked as they neared the club.

She looked so little and crumpled, with all the shine drowned in her
eyes.

"Life has beaten me raw to-day," she answered him, with a shadowy smile.

VI

Bambi announced the next morning that she had to have an entire day in
which to get over "Damaged Goods." Jarvis was nothing loath to put off
the evil hour when he was to start on his manager-hunt. So they agreed
on one more day of freedom.

The clouds threatened, so they looked over the papers for an
announcement of picture exhibitions, concerts, and lectures. The choice
was bewildering. They finally decided on a morning lecture, at Berkeley
Lyceum, entitled "The Religion of the Democrat." They made their way to
the little theatre, in a leisurely manner, to find the street blocked
with motor cars, the sidewalk and foyer crowded with fashionable women,
fully half an hour before the lecture was announced. Distracted ushers
tried to find places for the endless stream of ardent culturites, until
even the stage was invaded and packed in solid rows.

"This is astonishing," said Jarvis. "What on earth do these fine birds
care for democracy?"

"Must be the lecturer," said wise Bambi.

"Humph! A little mental pap before they run on to lunch."

The cackle and babble ceased suddenly as the chairman and lecturer
appeared. After a few announcements, the leading man was introduced.
Bambi was right. It was the man. You felt personality in the slow way he
swept the audience with his eyes, in the charming, friendly smile, in
the humour of his face. The women fairly purred.

Jarvis grunted impatiently, and Bambi felt a sense of guilt for her
ready response to this man, who had not yet spoken. Then he began, in a
good, resonant voice, to hook this lecture to the one of the
week before.

"Oh, it's a course," Bambi whispered.

Jarvis nodded. He wished he was well out of it. He hated the woman-idol
kind of lecturer. Then a stray phrase caught his wandering attention,
and he began to listen. The man had the "gift of tongues." Tha