Only those who have experienced the extreme discomfort of the simultaneous loss of both posterior trouser-buttons, and the consequent approach to the back of the neck of the bifurcation-point of the braces, will be able to appreciate the enormous handicap under which Providence had now seen fit to place me. In the manual effort, too, which became instantly necessary to prevent the downward corrugation of my trousers, the first button slipped from my grasp and again bounced upon the parquet. “Oh, I say,” said Mrs. Lorton, “is this a new kind of game, or are you trying to put me at my ease?” With a silent but powerful petition, I drew myself as erect as the circumstances permitted. “It is neither a game,” I said, holding up my trousers, “nor am I entering into personal relations with you. In fact it is my duty to make it quite clear to you that you are no sort of temptation to me.” Clad in some close-fitting fabric that exuded a most licentious scent, I could see at once that these well-chosen words had had a profound and immediate effect upon her. Turning her back on me, she emitted a hoarse gasp, and then collapsing upon the sofa, she lay there choking and convulsed in what appeared to be an attack of acute hysteria. Startled but unmoved, and still sustaining my trousers, I gravely awaited her recovery. “Oh dear,” she said, wiping her eyes, and then after looking at me again, she collapsed once more. Then she sat up, fanning herself with her handkerchief. “You must really forgive me,” she said, “but you looked so stern.” “I should scarcely have thought,” I replied, inclining my head a little, “that as a Xtian gentleman you could have expected me to look otherwise.” “Oh no,” she said, “no, of course not. Just suppose—oh dear, oh dear.” Then she wiped her eyes again. “Wouldn’t you be better sitting down?” she asked. “I thank you,” I said. “But I prefer to stand.” She folded up her handkerchief and placed it in a small bag. “Well, you know best,” she said. “What do you want me to do?” “I had imagined,” I said, “that that had already been indicated to you by your fellow-accomplice, Mr. Septimus Lorton.” “I say,” she replied, “you do use long words. Aren’t you considered to be frightfully clever?” I bowed again. “In my own circle,” I said, “I am not considered, I believe, to be unintelligent.” “And so you want Chrys,” she said, “to give you a job?” “You are doubtless aware,” I replied, “of the alternative.” “You mean if he doesn’t,” she said, “you’ll tell him about me and Septimus.” “As a Xtian gentleman,” I said, “it would become my duty.” “I wonder what he’d say,” she said. “When do you want to see him?” “The sooner the better,” I said. “I should prefer this afternoon.” She rose to her feet. “Then I’ll have to write him a note,” she said. “But it’ll never do to mention poor Septimus.” She crossed to the writing-table and began nibbling her pen. “Of course it’s rather difficult,” she said, “to know what to tell him.”