I'd get you to take a message
for me, but I'd better go myself."

Bendish nodded. "Just as you like. Have you settled yet about
the Etchingham agency?"

"No, I'm waiting for Bernard."

"Hope you'll see your way to accepting. My only fear is that it
would throw too much work on you; you're such a conscientious beggar!
but of course you wouldn't do for us all the odd jobs you do for poor
Bernard. Seems to me," Jack ruminated, "the best plan would be for
you to have a car. One gets about quicker like that and it wouldn't
be such a fag. There's that little green Napier roadster, she'd come
in handy if we stabled her at Nicholson's." He added simply, to
obviate any possible misunderstanding, "Garage bills our show, of
course."

"Thanks most awfully," said Val, accepting without false pride.
"I should love it, I do get tired after being in the saddle all
day. It would more than make up for the extra work."

They were crossing the Wanhope lawn as he spoke, on their way to
the open French windows of the parlour, gold-lit with many
candles against an amethyst evening sky. Laura, in a plain black
dress, was at the piano, the cool drenched foliage of Claude
Debussy's rainwet gardens rustling under her magic fingers.
Bernard was talking to Mrs. Jack Bendish, for the sufficient
reason that she disliked him and disliked talking to any one
while Laura played. Her defiant sparkle, her gipsy features, her
slim white shoulders emerging from the brocade and sapphires of a
sleeveless bodice cut open almost to her waist, produced the
effect of a Carolus Duran lady come to life and threw Laura back
into a dimmed and tired middle age. Jack's eyes glowed as they
dwelt on her. His marriage had been a trial to his family, but
no one could deny that Yvonne had made a success of it, for Jack
worshipped her.--Lawrence, leaning forward in his chair, his
forehead on his hand to shield his eyes from the light, looked
exceedingly tired, and probably was so.

"Queer chap Hyde," said Bendish to Val as they waited on the
grass for the music to finish. "Can't think what he's stopping
on for."

"Oh, Jack, for heaven's sake don't you begin on that subject!"

"Hey? Oh! No, by Jove. Seems a shame, doesn't it?" returned
Bendish, taking the point with that rapid effortless readiness of
his class which made him more soothing to Val than many a
cleverer man. "It all says itself, so what's the good of saying
it? All the same I shan't