"Don't be a fool, Evie. Go down and get some food. You can bring it up here and eat it. And, Evie--Ambrose is a very dear friend of mine and I dislike hearing you call him a 'black man'. He is almost as white as you and I. His great grandfather was an Indian." "If you don't like to hear me say unpleasant things about your friends, don't say them about mine." Here, Evie thought, not without reason, that she had a point which was worth laboring. She was astonished when Christina surrendered without firing another shot. "Perhaps you are right, dear. Go and get something to eat." Evie returned almost immediately with the news that the kitchen was empty and that she had seen one whom she was pleased to describe as "the enemy" bending over a wash-tub, his arms white with lather. "Do you think he is making up to mother?" she asked, as that interesting possibility presented itself. Christina choked. "Don't say funny things when I'm eating candy," she begged. VII The revue had reached its seventh scene before Beryl and her escort were shown into the big stage box of the Pavilion. She had hardly taken her seat before she saw a familiar face in the stalls. "Isn't that Mr. Moropulos?" she asked, and following the direction of her eyes he nodded. The Greek did not appear to have noticed them. He was conspicuous as being the only man in that row of the stalls who was not wearing evening dress. "Yes, that is Moropulos. Don't let him see you, Beryl." Apparently Mr. Moropulos did not identify the pair, for though he turned his head in their direction he showed no sign of recognition. Half-way through the last part of the revue, he disappeared and they did not see him again. "And now home. It has been a jolly afternoon and evening," said Beryl as they came out. Ronnie was looking round for his car. "What a fool I am," he said. "I told Parker not to wait--for some extraordinary reason I imagined your car would be here. We'll have to take a taxi." The cab had hardly started before he tapped at the window and leaning out, gave a fresh direction. "Come home and have some supper. I've just remembered that I told François I was bringing a couple of men home--told him early this morning." She hesitated. "I can't stay very long," she said. "No--nobody is waiting up for me. My maid never does--it spoils my enjoyment of a dance if I think that I am keeping some poor girl out of her bed. I'll come in for five minutes, dear." His arm came round her, her head drooped toward him. "Ronnie--I'm so glad all this has come about, darling--I've run after you--I know I have. But I don't care--four years seems such an awful long time to wait." "An eternity," he breathed. "And marriage is, as you say--in your immoral way--only a third party sanction--it is silly." He kissed her. An automatic lift carried them to the third floor and Ronnie went in switching on the lights. "I wonder whether father will be angry," she asked, "if your man--"