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resemblance to a hawk when his face was in repose. More often it was alight with malicious amusement; a fascinating personality, she thought involuntarily, with half her mind while she considered his question, but not exactly lovable.
    'I'm not most women,' she said slowly. 'Men can be very tiresome.'
    'So can women.'
    'But not so dangerous.' The words slipped out unthinkingly.
    Chris chuckled. 'Your duties would be only clerical,' he told her, and grinned impishly as she blushed. 'Board but not bed.'
    'You mean I should have to live in?'
    'You do now, don't you? It would be in this part of the world. You wouldn't want to go back to England?'
    She looked round at the blue sky, the bluer sea, the groves of lemon trees behind them. Menton was famous for its lemons.
    'I'd say not, but before I consider your ... er ... proposition, I'd want to know more details and whether I should be bettering myself.'
    'Oh, you'd be doing that, but I can't wait too long for your decision.'
    'You? How do you come into it?'
    'I'm asking you to come and work for me.'
    She laughed merrily. 'You're joking, of course.'
    'I'm in deadly earnest. I must warn you it's no sinecure. When the mood is on me, I work long hours and become very irritable. I've been idling enough and I've a play ta finish, you might find it interesting.'
    'I might, but... but can you afford to pay me?'
    He stared at her, his lips twitching. 'That is of paramount importance? You wouldn't work for love?'
    'I can't afford to,' she explained. 'I have to live. Mrs Cullingford pays me a very generous salary.'
    'And what princely sum does she consider your services are worth?'
    She told him.
    'I'll double that,' he said carelessly.
    'Oh, don't be absurd!' She was exasperated. For a moment she had believed he really was serious and the prospect he opened before her was alluring. To be in daily contact with Chris, to come to know him intimately as she must—secretaries often knew more about their bosses than their wives did—was thrilling, but she might have known he was not in earnest.
    'I'm sorry you think that,' he said stiffly.
    'But of course it's absurd. I'm not worth so much and you're a struggling playwright who couldn't afford to pay it.'
    'You're not yet au fait with my financial circumstances.'
    'But you said ... everyone said ...' she began, wondering if he had private means.
    'I use a little camouflage because I don't want to flaunt myself,' he told her flippantly. 'Officially I'm on holiday and it's more fun if people don't know ... everything.'
    'I see,' she said, feeling bewildered. Who was she talking to? 'But I'll have to know... everything, if I work for you.'
    'Only what's relevant,' he insisted. 'So you don't find the idea so absurd after all?'
    Clare looked at him levelly. 'I find your offer attractive, provided you can guarantee my monthly wage.'
    Chris laughed gleefully. 'Oh, my darling, you're rich!' he gurgled.
    'So must you be if you can afford such wages for a secretary.' She looked at him enquiringly.
    'There are no rich men nowadays,' he returned evasively. 'The Inland Revenue sees to that, but your salary will be paid on the dot on the first of each month. Does that satisfy you, you she-Shylock?'
    'Completely.'
    He sobered. 'In addition to your secretarial duties I want you to let me take you in hand.'
    Her grey eyes clouded and she moved uncomfortably. In spite of his assurances she feared he was going to make demands that she would find impossible to fulfil. And yet why should they be so? She wanted to see life to gain emotional experience, and nowadays girls thought nothing of casual lovemaking. It came to her then with a sense of shock that she did not want to be a mere episode in Christopher Raines' life.
    'What do you mean by that?' she asked nervously.
    'Don't look at me if you thought I meant to rape you,' he chided her. 'I'm not that sort of man. I only want to groom you to fit your part.' He ran a derogatory eye over her slight form, to which the