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morning, and talked about the Hireling Spirit, and the Decay of Enthusiasm in the Young.”
    â€œMy poor Jeremy! He sounds awful.”
    â€œHe’s all sound,” said Jeremy gloomily. “But I shall have to hang on if I can. Jobs are uncommon hard to come by.” He stopped suddenly and smote his brow. “Oh Lord!”
    â€œWhat is it?”
    â€œI’m a first-class prize idiot—that’s all.”
    â€œWhat have you done?”
    Jeremy looked perturbed.
    â€œMannister dictated a long screed this morning—a draft for a speech he’s making at Bournemouth on Saturday—and I was to type it out fair for him, look out one or two quotations and all that.”
    â€œWell?”
    â€œWell, I forgot to bring it away with me.”
    â€œDon’t you live in the house?”
    â€œNo—I’ve got a room out, thank the Lord. He’ll want the beastly thing to-morrow. I can’t think how I came to forget it, but he suddenly took it into his head to have the safe turned out, and there we were, sorting and scrapping and tidying, with the old boy going off at a tangent every ten minutes or so. He kept taking out letters and reading bits of ’em aloud. And then he dug up one of his old speeches and walked up and down the room spouting it at me. And when we’d got everything out, he said the thing he wanted wasn’t there, and I had to put everything back again. And then he sent me out for something, and when I came back he rowed me about something else, and—well, there it is. I don’t forget things as a rule.”
    Rosalind pushed back her chair.
    â€œYou must go straight away and get it now.”
    â€œIt’s half-past twelve,” said Jeremy. “Mannister’s household goes to bed at ten sharp. If he’s out, he lets himself in. As a matter of fact he wasn’t going out.”
    â€œWhat will you do? Does it matter?”
    â€œWell, I hate him to score me off.” He laughed, and when he laughed he looked much younger. “I shall burgle the house.”
    â€œJeremy!”
    He dropped his voice to a melodramatic whisper.
    â€œThere is a scullery window. Did you know that the scullery window is the burglar’s friend? I won’t tell you how it’s done, but it’s quite easy. I shall climb a wall, crawl over a sink, creep into the library, and get away with the swag.”
    Rosalind laughed almost as she used to laugh.
    â€œIt sounds dreadfully bad for your clothes!”
    â€œI shall dress the part,” said Jeremy. “If you hear I’ve been arrested in a pair of bags that has given at the knees, you can come forward and testify that I have others without a stain on their character.”
    Rosalind got up. She looked taller, but that was because she was so thin. She had always been slight, but the beautiful curves were gone. Jeremy felt that anger again.
    â€œThere’s no hurry,” he said. “All the best burglaries are done between one and three.”
    She moved towards the door, and he followed her. She smiled from over her shoulder and said,
    â€œI don’t know what’s done any more. I’m a country cousin and I’m not used to sitting up late.”
    As she turned to smile at him, a high, sweet voice spoke her name,
    â€œRosalind! Darling!”
    Rosalind took a step back, and Mimosa Vane arrived rather breathlessly between her and Jeremy.
    â€œRosalind darling—this is marvellous! When did you get back? Are you going to stay now? Janet said you were taking her flat. My dear, it’s too marvellous to see you!”
    Rosalind smiled. Mimosa looked odder than ever. After eighteen months she really looked quite over-poweringly odd. She had gone platinum, and what had once been rather mouse-coloured hair was now an unearthly shade between flaxen and grey. It hung about the little shrivelled neck in lank half curled ringlets. Her dress was silver gauze. It