mand it? Where was Natalie? Lewis asked himself the
question and felt a twinge of self-reproach. Life had been so full for
him that he had not stopped to think how empty it might be for Natalie,
his friend.

How little he had done to trace her! Only the one letter. He decided to
write again, this time to Dom Francisco. If only he could talk to
Natalie, what long tours it would take to tell and to hear all! A faint
flush of anticipation was rising to his cheeks when a rap on the door
startled him. Before he could look around Nelton announced, "A lady to
see you, sir."

Lewis leaped to his feet and stepped forward. Had one of the miracles he
had been taught to believe in come to pass? Had prayer been answered?
The lady raised her arms and started to take off her veil. Then she
turned her back to Lewis.

"Do untie it for me," she drawled in the slow voice of Lady Violet
Manerlin.

Lewis felt his face fall, and was glad she had her back to him. He undid
her veil with steady, leisurely fingers.

"This is awfully good of you," he said. "How did you know I was alone?"

"Telephoned Nelton, and told him not to say anything."

Vi took off her hat and jacket as well as her veil, and tossed the lot
into a chair. Then she sat down in a corner of the big couch before the
fire, doubled one foot under her, tapped the floor with the other, and
yawned. Lewis offered her a cigarette, took one himself, and then shared
a match with her.

"It's good of you to take it so calmly," said Vi. "Are you one of the
fools that must always have an explanation? I'll give you one, if you
like."

"Don't bother," said Lewis, smiling. "You've been bored--horribly bored.
You looked out of the window, and saw the green things in the park, and
remembered that there was only one bit in your list of humanity as green
and fresh as they, and you headed straight for it."

"Yes," drawled Vi, "like a cow making for the freshest tuft of grass in
the pasture. Thanks; but I'm almost sorry you told me why I came. That's
the disappointing thing to us women. When we think we're doing something
original, somebody with a brain comes along and reduces it to first
elements, and we find we've only been natural."

Lewis straddled a chair, folded his arms on the back of it, and looked
Vi over with a professional eye. She was posed for a painter, not for a
sculptor, but even so he found her worth looking at. A woman can't sit
on one foot, tap the floor with the othe