utright. "That's better; the high spirits will
soon be coming back---- Thousands of Braithwaites! My dear Terry, there
must be hundreds of thousands." Then in a graver voice, "But though
there were thousands of millions, it wouldn't restore to me my one loyal
man."

"You loved him?" She uttered her guess softly.

"Yes, and I--it's a queer thing to say about one's valet--I admired him
tremendously."

It was the best part of five years since Tabs had driven a car. He
hadn't yet regained his old dexterity. He wasn't expert enough to attend
to the wheel and at the same time to carry on a conversation. As he left
the bridge he had to pass a coster's barrow which was drawn up beside
the curb. The coster was dressed in the soiled khaki of a man recently
released from the Army; his barrow was piled high with narcissi and
daffodils, and a drowsy donkey drooped between the shafts. In avoiding a
suicidal pedestrian, Tabs misjudged the room that he had to spare. He
felt a jolt, guessed what had happened, and jammed on his brakes. A
policeman in front of him was holding up a magisterial hand. Behind him
a stream of familiar trench profanity was gathering in volume; under
other circumstances he would have found a certain enjoyment in the
sound. He looked back and saw what he expected: the barrow overturned;
the flowers scattered, the donkey surprised out of its drowsiness,
thrown on its back and kicking in its harness; the coster straddling the
sudden ruin and calling down all the rigors of the law. A crowd was
running together; it hesitated between the coster and Tabs, uncertain as
to which would provide the more exciting entertainment. When the
policeman waving his note-book approached the car, it plunked for Tabs.

The policeman was a stout, fat-fingered, immovable kind of person. He
said nothing till he had penciled down the car's official number. Tabs
gave his name and address. "Lord Taborley, etc." The policeman lifted
his slow eyes to judge for himself whether the Lord part of his
information looked probable. The lean aristocratic face which he
encountered seemed to correspond with the specifications recorded. He
asked to see his Lordship's license. Tabs embarked on explanations,
pointing to the bandaged wrist of Prentys as a confirmation of his
facts. While he was explaining the coster joined them, having got his
donkey on to its legs. He was violent with anger and burning to expound
the justice of his cause. Suddenly he