"How do you know," I asked, "that my life has been well-ordered?" "Look at yourself in the glass," she begged. Scarcely knowing what I did, I turned round in my seat and obeyed her. There is, perhaps, a certain preciseness about my appearance as well as my attire. I am tall enough--well over six feet--but my complexion still retains traces of my years in Africa and of my fondness for outdoor sports. My hair is straight and I have never grown beard or mustache. I felt, somehow, that I represented the things which in an Englishman are a little derided by young ladies on the other side of the water. "I can't help my appearance," I said, a little crossly. "I can assure you that I am not a prig." "Our young friend," Mr. Parker intervened, "has certainly earned his immunity from any such title. To tell you the truth, Eve, he has already been my accomplice this evening in a certain little matter. But for his help, who knows that I might not have found myself up against it? Between us we have even had a little fun out of Cullen." Her expression changed. She seemed, for some reason, none too well pleased. "What have you been doing?" she asked me. "I, personally, have been doing very little indeed," I told her. "Your father entered the restaurant in a hurry about an hour ago and found it convenient to seat himself at my table and help himself to my dinner. He intrusted me, also, with a packet, which I subsequently returned to him." "It is now," Mr. Parker declared, replying to his daughter's anxious glance, "in perfectly safe hands." She sighed and shook her head at him. "Daddy," she murmured plaintively, "why will you run such risks? Even Mr. Cullen isn't an absolute idiot, you know, and there might have been some one else watching." Mr. Parker nodded. "You are quite right, my dear," he admitted. "To tell you the truth, Cullen was really a little smarter than usual this evening. However, there's always the luck, you know--our luck! If Mr. Walmsley had turned out a different sort of man--but, then, I knew he wouldn't." She turned her head and looked at me. She had a trick of contracting the corners of her eyes just a little, which was absolutely bewitching. "Will you tell me why you helped my father in this way, Mr. Walmsley?" I returned her regard steadfastly. "It never occurred to me," I said, "to do anything else--after I had recognized him." She smiled a little. My speech was obviously sincere. I think from that moment she began to realize why I had occupied the little table, opposite to the one where she so often sat, with such unfailing regularity. "What about a music hall?" Mr. Parker suggested. "I hear there's a good show on right across the street here. Have you any engagement for this evening, Mr. Walmsley?" "None at all," I hastened to assure him.