en me a capacity for making
friends.

I reached Florence Court at about a quarter to seven, keeping a
sharp lookout along the embankment as I approached for any sign of
a loitering detective. Except for one aged gentleman, however, who
seemed to be wholly occupied in spitting in the Thames, the stretch in
front of the studios was absolutely deserted. Glancing at the board
in the hall as I entered, I saw that "Mr. Morrison" and "Miss Vivien"
were both "in"--a statement which in Tommy's case was confirmed a
moment later by his swift appearance at the door in answer to my
knock.

"Mr. Morrison, I believe?" I said.

He seized me by the arm and dragged me inside.

"This is fine. I never thought you'd be back as quick as this. Are
things all right?"

"I should hardly go as far as that," I said. "But we seem to be
getting along quite nicely."

He nodded. "Good! I just want a wash, and then we'll go right in to
Joyce's place. We are going to have supper there, and you can tell us
all about it while we're feeding."

He splashed out some water into a basin in the corner of the studio,
and made his ablutions with a swiftness that reminded me of some of my
own toilets in the grey twilight of a Dartmoor dawn. Tommy was never a
man who wasted much trouble over the accessories of life.

"Come along," he said, flinging down the towel on the sofa. "Joyce
will be dying to hear what's happened!"

I turned towards the hall, but he suddenly put his hand on my shoulder
and pulled me back.

"Not that way. We've a private road now--runs along the back of the
studios."

He crossed the room, and opened a door which led out into a narrow
stone passage roofed in by glass.

I followed him along this till we came to another door, on which Tommy
tapped twice with his knuckles. In a moment we heard a key turn and
Joyce was standing on the threshold. When she saw who it was she gave
a little cry of welcome and held out both her hands.

"But how nice!" she exclaimed. "I never thought you'd be here so
soon."

We had each taken a hand, and talking and laughing at the same time,
she pulled us in after her and shut the door.

"At last!" she cried softly; "at last!" And for a second or two we all
three stood there just gripping each other's hands and not saying a
word. It certainly was rather a good feeling.

Tommy was the first to break the silence. "Damn it," he said huskily,
"if Neil didn't look so exactly like a brigand chief I bel