His wife sat down by his side and put an arm round his neck. “Crip,” she said, laying her cheek against his. “David’s gone off the deep end.” “What?” cried Crispin. “Gone and got sozzled by day?” “No, no, no. Far worse, Crip. He thinks he’s in love with me.” “The devil he does,” said Crispin. “Not that it isn’t natural, but what a stew and a half! Where’s Nell come in?” “He swears she doesn’t,” cried Madge. “That’s the frightful part. Whatever are we to do?” Her husband knitted his brows. “Of course, he’ll get over it,” he murmured. “That’s certain enough. Just as the others have. But in this case we’re up against time.” “Exactly,” said Madge. “Right up against it. A week in the country might help, but he can’t have a couple of days. Whatever happens, Nell must never suspect.” “By Jove, no.” He turned and looked at his wife. “Hullo, you’ve been crying, sweetheart.” His lips tightened. “Did he—make a fool of himself?” “Only for a second. He caught hold of me and kissed me. But I didn’t mind that. Besides, he apologised directly. And he told me to tell you that if you wanted to kick him he was at your service.” Crispin grinned. “But he said he didn’t think you would.” “Why?” “He said that, being a man, you’ld understand.” “Ah.” There was a moment’s silence. Then Crispin kissed his wife, smiled into her eyes and fell again to brushing the terrier, who was patiently lying on his back with his legs in the air. “Where is, er, Paris, at the moment?” he demanded lazily. “I haven’t the faintest idea. Probably at the Club.” “And Œnone?” “Probably at home. Why?” “I was thinking they’d better not meet till David’s got his orders. Of course, the marriage must go through. They’re perfectly matched and they’ll be ridiculously happy. If there were anything doing—I mean, if you were on, it’ld be a different thing. Nell wouldn’t stand an earthly—no woman would.” Mrs. Willoughby squeezed his arm. “But as you’re not, old lady—well, unrequited love doesn’t wear as well as it did when ‘burning Sappho loved and sung.’ Personally, I’m not at all sure that it was ever very durable. But that’s beside the point, which is that our job is to knock it out quick.” “I agree,” said Madge, abstracting her husband’s case and taking a cigarette. “But how on earth can we do it?” “Ask him to dinner to-night. I’ll go out. Somewhere about the fish tell him tenderly that you wouldn’t be seen dead with him. That’ll put him off and, what’s far more important, wound his pride. Add, for instance, that you don’t like the way he eats.” Madge began to shake with laughter. “And say, ‘to be perfectly frank,’ that you’ve always been much surprised that Nell didn’t seem to mind.” “I can’t, Crip. Besides——”