“‘You can’t go on like this,’ he observed. ‘It’s—it’s unheard of.’ “‘It is at present,’ was the reply. ‘But it’ll soon get about. You know what Scandal is.’ “The King rose to his feet and took a short turn. “When he felt better— “‘What,’ he said, ‘do you suggest?’ “‘A priest,’ said the Master of the Horse. ‘Oh, and witnesses.’ “After several more turns the King sent for a priest. “‘After all,’ he said to himself, ‘she can’t respond; so I can always get it annulled. And what price “undue influence”?’ “At the critical moment, however, Sunset responded heartily. Then she released the bloodhound and blew her father a kiss. “‘I’d no idea,’ she said, ‘you could go so well. The way you flew those walls! But I do wish you’d have that drain cleaned out. I don’t think it’s healthy.’ “The King was nothing if not a man of action. “He seized his son-in-law by the ear and fell into a trance. “This was a real one, and lasted for several days. So the King got a bit of his own back. “The first thing he did upon recovery was to make the practice of ventriloquism a capital crime.” There was a long silence. At length— “Don’t say you’re asleep?” said Toby. Cicely started guiltily. “Certainly not,” she said. “Go on. Sunset went into a trance. I suppose the uncle did that. What then?” “Oh, the vixen!” said Rage. “Just ’cause I wouldn’t get her coat. Never mind. ‘Full many a tale is told to float unheard, And waste its neatness on the _distrait_ ear.’ Besides, it’s the effort that counts.” He sighed. Then, “D’you often laugh in your sleep, Cicely?” So soon as she could speak— “I’m not surprised,” said Miss Voile in a shaking voice, “that Rachel turned you down.” “But she didn’t,” said Rage comfortably. “It was I who, er, withdrew. What shall we do to-morrow?” Cicely rose to her feet and smoothed down her dress. “Why,” she said, “should we do anything?” “Because we get on so well. You don’t want to be loved, because men mean nothing to you. Well, I should think I’m one of the few men living who could withstand successfully your physical and mental charms. Besides, you find me convenient—very convenient. On the other hand, while I’ve not the slightest desire to bear down any woman, most of the women I know seem to expect to be overwhelmed. Of course I except my Aunt Ira. She’s in a class of her own.” “Is she so strong?” said Cicely. “It’s not exactly strength. It’s sheer weight. She’s rather like lava. Her personality submerges—flattens. After half an hour of her I’m all over at the knees. Add to this that she’s a bigoted mid-Victorian, has made a will in my favour and is enormously rich, when you’ll see that our relations are delicate indeed. She’s very hot on what she calls ‘round’ dances and the decay of chaperonage.” “She would like Biarritz, wouldn’t she?” said Miss Voile. Her companion shuddered.