r a few minutes before lunch now. Afterwards I shall bring up a
pencil and paper. We will make some notes together."

Philip walked on to the smoking room. He could scarcely believe that the
planks he trod were of solid wood. Raymond Greene met him at the entrance
and slapped him on the back:

"Just in time for a cocktail before lunch!" he exclaimed. "I was looking
everywhere for a pal. Two Martinis, dry as you like, Jim," he added,
turning round to the smoking room steward. "Sure you won't join us,
Lawton?"

"Daren't!" was the laconic answer from the man whom he had addressed.

"By-the-bye," Mr. Raymond Greene went on, "let me make you two
acquainted. This is Mr. Douglas Romilly, an English boot
manufacturer--Mr. Paul Lawton of Brockton. Mr. Lawton owns one of the
largest boot and shoe plants in the States," the introducer went on. "You
two ought to find something to talk about."

Philip held out his hand without a single moment's hesitation. He was
filled with a new confidence.

"I should be delighted to talk with Mr. Lawton on any subject in the
world," he declared, "except our respective businesses."

"I am very glad to meet you, sir," the other replied, shaking hands
heartily. "I don't follow that last stipulation of yours, though."

"It simply means that I am taking seven days' holiday," Philip explained
gaily, "seven days during which I have passed my word to myself to
neither talk business nor think business. Your very good health, Mr.
Raymond Greene," he went on, drinking his cocktail with relish. "If we
meet on the other side, Mr. Lawton, we'll compare notes as much as you
like."

"That's all right, sir," the other agreed. "I don't know as you're not
right. We Americans do hang round our businesses, and that's a fact.
Still, there's a little matter of lasts I should like to have a word or
two with you about some time."

"A little matter of what?" Philip asked vaguely.

"Lasts," the other repeated. "That's where your people and ours look
different ways chiefly, that and a little matter of manipulation of our
machinery."

"Just so," Philip assented, swallowing the rest of his cocktail. "What
about luncheon? There's nothing in the world to give you an appetite like
this sea air."

"I'm with you," Mr. Raymond Greene chimed in. "You two can have your
trade talk later on."

He took his young friend's arm, and they descended the stairs together.

"What the mischief is a last?" he inquired.

"I ha