“Oh, of course you can laugh,” said Virginia hotly. “But I mean what I say. I’m utterly disillusioned, and I’m going to clear out and leave the lot of you to it. What’s your rotten idea?” Roger took out a case and selected a cigarette. “I’m afraid it’s too worldly,” he said. “Besides, as you don’t see the papers——” “Now, where’s that note you sent me?” said Virginia, ransacking her bag. “The priest’ll want that to send to Derry.” Captain Chase sat very still. Then— “Oh, the vixen!” he said. “Never mind. In return for that note I’ll hand you my rotten idea.” With an envelope, pinched between her forefinger and thumb, Virginia tapped her small nose and stared at the chauffeur’s shoulders and the black and silver habit of Night beyond. At length— “I give you it back,” she said, “unconditionally.” The letter passed. “You should never have written it, Roger; but that was my fault. I’ve been a fool, and I’ve made a fool of you. And between us I quite believe we’ve driven Derry and Rosemary into each other’s arms. . . . Well, it’s no less than we deserve. Derry’s a wonderful husband, and Rosemary’s a peach of a wife.” “So she is,” muttered Roger. “But now . . . we’ve fed them up. . . . How far it’s gone—how long it’s been going on I haven’t the faintest idea. And how on earth we’re to stop it I can’t tell. If your idea will do that, I’m ready to try. But I will not put it across them. I—haven’t—the right.” Chase tugged his moustache. “Virginia,” he said, “I can’t let you talk like that. I’m too much—ashamed. I’m not going to say I regret the—the interlude, because that wouldn’t be true. You see, I’m only human, while you’re divine. But it’s been a shady business, and I’m frankly ashamed. Which of us two has been to blame won’t bear argument. I started it—that we both know: and to-night you’ve—you’ve ended it, dear.” He took the slight fingers in his and put them to his lips. “As for Derry and Rosemary, I’ve no doubt you’re right. If they’re assembling, we’ve only ourselves to thank. But I’m ready and willing to bet it’s not gone very far. If I’m right, the threat of exposure will kill it dead. An affair like this, while it’s young, can be frightened to death.” “After all,” said Virginia slowly, “you ought to know. And I hope to Heaven you’re right. I like you, Roger, you know. And I’m fond of you—in a way. But the thought of losing Derry . . .” She let the sentence go and put her face in her hands. Captain Chase had switched on the light and was scribbling on the back of his envelope. After a correction or two— “How will this do?” he demanded. “Agony Column of _The Times. Unless owner of valuable closed car receives an abject apology from each of the occupants of the coupé which at a moment when they were_ OTHERWISE ENGAGED _was driven across his path, thereby almost occasioning a serious accident, he will publish the time and place at which the incident occurred, together with the number of the offending car._”