The tickets to which Jonah referred would make us free of the Albert Hall for a ball which promised to surpass all its predecessors in splendour and discomfort. No one was to be admitted who was not clad in cloth either of gold or silver, and, while there were to be no intervals between the dances, a great deal of the accommodation usually reserved for such revellers as desired rest or refreshment was being converted into seats to be sold to any who cared to witness a pageant of unwonted brilliancy. The fact that no one of us had attended a function of this sort for more than five years, and the excellence of the cause on behalf of which it was being promoted, were responsible for our inclination to take the tickets, for, with the exception of Jill, we were not eager to subscribe to an entertainment which it was not at all certain we should enjoy. At length-- "I suppose we'd better take the tickets," I said reflectively. "If we don't want to go, we needn't use them." "Oh, we must use them," said Daphne; "and we've got nothing on on Wednesday, as far as I can see." Berry cleared his throat. "It is patent," he said, "that my personal convenience is of no consideration. But let that pass. I have no objection to setting, as it were, the seal of success upon the ball in question, provided that my costume buttons in front, and has not less than two pockets which are at once accessible and of a reasonable capacity. I dare say they weren't fashionable in the fourteenth century. No doubt our forefathers thought it a scream to keep their handkerchiefs in their boots or the seat of their trousers. But I'm funny like that. Last time I had to give the fellow in the cloak-room half a crown every time I wanted to blow my nose." "You four go," said Jonah. "I always feel such a fool in fancy dress." "If you feel anything like the fool you look," said Berry, "I'm sorry for you." Jonah lowered _The Sportsman_ and surveyed the speaker. "What you want," he said, "is a little honest toil. I should take up scavenging, or sewerage. Something that appeals to you." "I agree" said Daphne. "But you can't start this morning, because you're coning with Jill and me to choose the rug." She turned to me. "Boy dear, ring up and take those tickets, will you?" I nodded. The spirit of reckless generosity which is so prominent a characteristic of "Exchange" was very noticeable this morning. The number I asked for, which was faithfully repeated by the operator, was Mayfair 976. I was connected successively to Hammersmith 24, Museum 113, and Mayfair 5800. After a decent interval I began again. "Kennington Road Police Station," said a voice. "Kennington or Kennington Road?" said I. "Kennington Road. There ain't no Kennington." "Ain't--I mean, aren't there? I always thought.... Never mind. How are the police?" "I say this is Kennington Road Police Station," replied the voice with some heat.