e couldn't. He amuses me,' Edith replied softly.

'Oh, does he?... If I had the opportunity I wonder if I should _amuse_
you,' he spoke thoughtfully.

'No; I don't think you would at all,' said Edith, looking him straight
in the face.

'That's quite fair,' he laughed, and seemed rather pleased. 'You mean I
should bore you to death! Do forgive me, Mrs Ottley. Let's go on with
our talk of last night.... I feel it's rather like the Palace of Truth
here; I don't know why. There must be something in the atmosphere--I
seem to find it difficult not to think aloud--Vincy, now--do you see
much of Vincy?'

'Oh yes; he comes here most days, or we talk on the telephone.'

'I see; he's your confidant, and you're his. Dear Vincy. By the way, he
asked me last night to go to a tea-party at his flat next week. He was
going to ask one or two other kindred spirits--as I think they're
called. To see something--some collection. Including you, of course?'

'I shall certainly go,' said Edith, 'whether he asks me or not.'

Aylmer seemed to be trying to leave. He nearly got up once or twice and
sat down again.

'Well, I shall see you tonight,' he said. 'At eight.'

'Yes.'

'What shall you wear, Mrs Ottley?'

'Oh, I thought, perhaps, my mauve chiffon? What do you advise?' she
smiled.

'Not what you wore last night?'

'Oh no.'

'It was very jolly. I liked it. Er--red, wasn't it?'

'Oh no! It was pink!' she answered.

Then there was an extraordinary pause, in which neither of them seemed
able to think of anything to say. There was a curious sort of vibration
in the air.

'Isn't it getting quite springy?' said Edith, as she glanced at the
window. 'It's one of those sort of warm days that seem to have got
mixed up by mistake with the winter.'

'Very,' was his reply, which was not very relevant.

Another pause was beginning.

'Mr Vincy,' announced the servant.

He was received with enthusiasm, and Aylmer Ross now recovered his ease
and soon went away.

'Edith!' said Vincy, in a reproving tone. '_Really_! How _very_ soon!'

'He came to know what time we dine. He was just passing.'

'Oh, yes. He would want to know. He lives in Jermyn Street. I
suppose Knightsbridge is on his way to there.'

'From where?' she asked.

'From here,' said Vincy.

'What happened after we left?' said Edith. 'I saw the Cricker man
beginning to dance with hardly anyone looking at him.'

'Isn't his imitation of Nijinsky wonderful?' asked Vin