d
been arrested by a shop window, the window of one of the shops recently
included in the vast edifice of the Hotel Majestic.

Miss Ingate gave a little squeal of surprise. The two kissed very heartily
in the street, which was full of spring and of the posters of evening
papers bearing melodramatic tidings of the latest nocturnal development of
the terrible suffragette campaign.

"You said eleven, Audrey. It isn't eleven yet."

"Well, I'm behind time. I meant to be all spruced up and receive you in
state at the hotel. But the boat was three hours late at Harwich. I jumped
into a cab at Liverpool Street, but I got out at Piccadilly Circus because
the streets looked so fine and I felt I really must walk a bit."

"And where's your husband?"

"He's at Liverpool Street trying to look after the luggage. He lost some of
it at Hamburg. He likes looking after luggage, so I just left him at it."

Miss Ingate's lower lip dropped at the corners.

"You've had a tiff."

"Winnie, we haven't."

"Did you go to all his concerts?"

"All. I heard all his practising, and I sat in the stalls at all his
concerts. Quite contrary to my principles, of course. But, Winnie, it's
very queer, I _wanted_ to do it. So naturally I did it. We've never been
apart--until now."

"And it's not exaggerated, what you've written me about his success?"

"Not a bit. I've been most careful not to exaggerate. In fact, I've tried
to be gloomy. No use, however! It was a triumph.... And how's all this
business?" Audrey demanded, in a new key, indicating an orange-tinted
newspaper bill that was being flaunted in front of her.

"Oh! I believe it's dreadful. Of course, you know Rosamund's in prison. But
they'll have to let her out soon. Jane Foley--she still calls herself
Foley--hasn't been caught. And that's funny. I doubled my subscription. We
had to, you see. But that's all I've done. They don't have processions and
things now, and barrel organs are _quite_ out of fashion. What with that,
and my rheumatism!... I used to think I should live to vote myself. I feel
I shan't now. So I've gone back into water-colours. They're very soothing,
if you let the paper dry after each wash and don't take them seriously....
Now, I'm a very common-sense woman, Audrey, as you must have noticed, and
I'm not subject to fancies. Will you just look at the girl on the left hand
in this window here, and tell me whether I'm dreaming or not?"

Miss Ingate indicated the shop w