ces could be repeated indefinitely.

"You're spending the evening with me, Neil, of course," observed
Tommy, as we drew into Charing Cross.

I nodded. "We'll take a taxi and buy the hat somewhere, and then drop
Joyce at Chelsea. After that I am open to any dissipation."

"Only keep away from the Savoy," said Joyce. "I am making my great
surrender there, and it would hamper me to have you and Tommy about."

We promised to respect her privacy, and then, getting out of the
train, which had drawn up in the station, we hailed a taxi and climbed
quickly into it. Charing Cross is the last place to dawdle in if you
have any objection to being recognized.

"Shall we be able to write to you?" asked Joyce. "I shall want to tell
you about George, and Tommy will want to let you know how he gets on
with Latimer. Of course I'm coming down to the boat in a day or two;
but all sorts of things may happen before then."

I thought rapidly for a moment. "Write to me at the Tilbury
post-office," I said. "Only don't make a mistake and address the
letter to Neil Lyndon. Too much excitement isn't good for a Government
official."

Tommy laughed. "It's just the sort of damn silly thing I should
probably have done," he said. "Can't you imagine the postmaster's face
when he read the envelope? I should like to paint it as a Christmas
supplement to the _Graphic_."

"Where did you tell the man to stop, Joyce?" I asked.

"Holland's," said Joyce. "I am going to buy Gertie a really splendid
hat--something with birds and flowers on it. I am sure I know just
what she'll think beautiful. I suppose I had better tell them to send
it round to you at Edith Terrace. You won't want to carry it about
London."

"Not unless Tommy likes to wear it," I said. "I think I'm disguised
enough as it is."

We pulled up outside Mr. Holland's imposing shop-front, and Joyce,
who was sitting next the door, got up from her seat. Then she leaned
forward and kissed me.

"Good-bye, Neil," she said. "I shall come down on Tuesday and go
straight to the _Betty_, unless I hear anything special from you
before then." She paused. "And oh, dear Neil," she added, "you will be
careful, won't you? If anything was to happen now, I believe I should
kill George and jump into the Thames."

"In that case," I said, "I shall be discretion itself. I couldn't
allow George anything like so charming an end; it would be quite
wasted on him."

Joyce smiled happily and, opening the door,