For while I still marveled--and I need hardly say rejoiced--admiration and joy must wait for the present. It might be some little time before I saw Monty again (he had told me he was making business calls during a great part of the day and working until late into the night), and another point had struck me. This was his new confidence that it would presently be "all right" between himself and Audrey Cunningham. I had had a glimpse, if not yet the full revelation, of where Smith stood; but I did not yet clearly see how this affected Mrs. Cunningham. Yet in Monty's mind a connection obviously existed. He came out of the editor's den again, folding up the brown paper that had enwrapped his drawing and putting it carefully into his pocket. "Brown paper's scarce," he said. "I've used this piece four times already. And I undo all the knots in my string too. Well, which way are you going?" We left the office and, barely a hundred yards away, turned into the Temple. Presently he resumed our previous conversation by asking me what I thought of his guess; and I told him. I told him also my difficulty about what his own engagement had to do with this. "Do with it?" he repeated as we began to pace backward and forward along King's Bench Walk. "It's a good deal to do with it--if that about Smith's right, of course. You see, you hardly know Dawdy. She thinks you don't like her very much----" "Then I hope you'll take the first opportunity----" I began hurriedly, but he waved his hand. "Oh, don't you worry about it. I don't suppose she means it. And whether she does or not it seems to me this is exactly where I come in." "Then you see more than I do," I remarked. "Don't you? I mean her taking sudden fancies of that kind. I'm not superstitious myself--silly I call it--but she's a mass of it. Theatrical people are, I've heard, and anyway she is. I think that beast Cunningham started her off. When she used to sit up at night waiting for him to come home she used to do all sorts of stupid things--sit there counting slowly, and if he didn't come before she counted a hundred he wouldn't come at all--counting the taxis that passed too--watching the clock--beastly. Filthy time she had. I hope I'm somewhere near that brute at the Resurrection." Presently he swallowed his anger and continued.