.

An empty motor car entered the square, and drew up near by. The chauffeur
touched his cap.

"I'll run you both over to Nice," said Clem Sypher. "I have to meet my
agent there and put the fear of God into him. I shan't be long. My methods
are quick. And I'll run you back again. Don't say no."

There was the car--a luxurious 40 h.p. machine, upholstered in green; there
was Clem Sypher, pink and strong, appealing to her with his quick eyes;
there was the sunshine and the breathless blue of the sky; and there was
Septimus Dix, a faithful bodyguard. She wavered and turned to Septimus.

"What do you say?"

She was lost. Septimus murmured something inconclusive. Sypher triumphed.
She went indoors to get her coat and veil. Sypher admiringly watched her
retreating figure--a poem of subtle curves--and shrugging himself into his
motor coat, which the chauffeur brought him from the car, he turned to
Septimus.

"Look here, Mr. Dix, I'm a straight man, and go straight to a point. Don't
be offended. Am I in the way?"

"Not in the least," said Septimus, reddening.

"As for me, I don't care a hang for anything in the universe save Sypher's
Cure. That's enough for one man to deal with. But I like having such a
glorious creature as Mrs. Middlemist in my car. She attracts attention; and
I can't say but what I'm not proud at being seen with her, both as a man
and a manufacturer. But that's all. Now, tell me, what's in your mind?"

"I don't think I quite like you--er--to look on Mrs. Middlemist as an
advertisement," said Septimus. To speak so directly cost him considerable
effort.

"Don't you? Then I won't. I love a man to speak straight to me. I respect
him. Here's my hand." He wrung Septimus's hand warmly. "I feel that we are
going to be friends. I'm never wrong. I hope Mrs. Middlemist will allow me
to be a friend. Tell me about her."

Septimus again reddened uncomfortably. He belonged to a class which does
not discuss its women with a stranger even though he be a newly sworn
brother.

"She mightn't care for it," he said.

Sypher once more clapped him on the shoulder. "Good again!" he cried,
admiringly. "I shouldn't like you half so much if you had told me. I've got
to know, for I know everything, so I'll ask her myself."

Zora came down coated and veiled, her face radiant as a Romney in its frame
of gauze. She looked so big and beautiful, and Sypher looked so big and
strong, and both seemed so full of vitality, that Se