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most handsome hunk of manhood I’ve seen in quite a while, let me tell you! What’s the matter with you, if you can’t see that?”
    “I’m immune!” Arab claimed.
    Jill gave her a long, brooding look. “How come?”
    Arab shrugged. “I don’t like him. He’s too obvious himself, and he judges everyone else the same way. I think he deserves Sandra Dark!”
    “That’s what they say,” Jill agreed. “In fact they say he already has her.”
    Arab felt a tight knot form itself in her middle and was cross that she should feel anything at all. She was being no more than honest when she said she hadn’t liked Lucien Manners, and she knew that he hadn’t liked her either. Calling her a street arab and telling her off for wearing informal clothes, just as though she were as much his niece as Hilary! And about the same age! Somehow or other, that had been the worst crime of all. Here she was, fully adult, and with one of the most glamorous jobs in the world, and he had made her feel an irresponsible adolescent who had no right to compete with her elders and betters—such as Sandra Dark! Arab’s eyes glinted angrily as she thought about the other girl.
    “I think you do mind if it makes you look like that!” Jill’s. voice broke into her thoughts.
    “No, I don’t! I was just feeling sorry for Hilary having to put up with Sandra Dark. They don’t like each other.”
    Jill’s face softened. “I look forward to meeting this young friend of yours,” she murmured. “If I’d known how much I would miss my own family I don’t think I would have come on this trip! Be thankful you’re heart-whole and fancy free, my dear. They talk laughingly of one’s spouse being one’s better half, but do you know I hadn’t realised how true that is! I’ve left my better half, and more, behind in London. Here we are, with the opportunity of a lifetime, and all this sand and sea, and all I can do is mope for my true love in London.”
    “And you wouldn’t have it any other way!” Arab accused her. She sat up, grinning. “Here comes the wind! That should hurry things along!”
    “Yippee!” said Jill.
    The unit was being run by a younger man than usual. He was a morose individual, with never a good word for anyone. But he certainly knew his job. He had chosen his models with care, seeing immediately that Arabella and Jill showed each other off to perfection, even if both of them could have been bettered individually. His photographers he cared less about, because he directed most of the shots himself, arranging every detail to his own satisfaction. His name was Sammy Silk.
    He greeted the news that the wind had got up with a dubious grunt. “I’m not having a repetition of yesterday’s nonsense. If you two are going to wilt away today, I’m looking for another site. There must be somewhere cool in this dump!”
    “There is,” Arabella nodded, thinking of Lucien Manners’ delightful house.
    “Where?” Sammy Silk shot at her.
    Arab coloured, not best pleased at finding herself the centre of attraction. “I don’t really know—that is, it’s privately owned, or at least, I think it is. He—he wouldn’t like it!”
    Everyone stared at her.
    “He?” Sammy probed, blinking in the hot sunlight. Jill cast a slanted look at Arab’s flushed face and decided to go to her rescue. “Lucien Manners’ niece asked Arab back to tea,” she smiled. “Hilary is all of eleven years old and, in her uncle’s opinion, in need of friends of her own age!”
    The shout of laughter that greeted this sally brought a scowl to Arab’s face.
    “Even Mr. Manners didn’t suppose I was eleven !” she denied hotly.
    Jill looked amused. “But not much older, dear!”
    “Anyway,” Arab went on, “he lives in a perfectly gorgeous house. You should see it! But I shouldn’t think he’d agree to our using it. He—he has decided views about things—”
    “A big head?” Sammy put in.
    Arab nodded slowly. “Yes,” she sighed,