"Yes--not bad after a month's work," said the osteopath. "You must have massage for those back muscles, they are like wool. If you don't mind a man doing it, you couldn't do better than persuade Mr. Sault. He is an excellent masseur--I found this out by accident. The evening he came to engage me, I'd been dining out and sprained my ankle getting out of a cab--young lady, I observe your suspicion. I am an abstainer and have not touched strong wines for twenty years. I came in feeling bad and I was not inclined to discuss spines with him or anybody. But he insisted on massaging the limb--said he had learned the art in a hospital somewhere--yes, ask him. Otherwise it will cost you half a guinea a day." Evie heard all this early in the afternoon. It was early closing day and she came home to lunch. She flew up the stairs and literally flung herself upon Christina. "You darling. Isn't it wonderful! Mother says you stood up by yourself. Oh, Chris, didn't it feel splendid!" "Mother is a romancer," smiled Christina. "I certainly did stand on my feet, with considerable assistance, and it felt like hell!--pardon the language--physically. Spiritually and intellectually it was a golden moment of life. Oh, Evie, I'm gurgling with joy inside and the prospect of Ambrose rubbing my back fills me with bliss." "Ambrose--Mr. Sault?" Christina inclined her head gravely. "But not your _bare_ back?" "I fear so," said Christina. "I knew this would be a shock to you." "Don't be silly, Chris--it is all right I suppose," and then with a happy laugh, "of course it is all right. I'm wrong. I think I must have an unpleasant mind. You've always said I had--well, you've hinted. I'd even let him rub my back if it would do you good." "You Lady Godiva," murmured Christina admiringly, "quo vadis?" "That means where am I going? I always mix it up with that other one, 'the sign of the cross.' I am going to a matinee with a girl from the shop. She had tickets sent to her by a gentleman who knows the manager. It will be a bad play; you can't get tickets for a success. How is your Ambrose? I haven't seen him for weeks. Ronnie says that there has been an awful lot of trouble at the office--" "Oh! Has he an office?" "I don't know--some office Ronnie is connected with. He's a director, my dear. I saw his name in the paper--Ronnie, I mean." "Has Ambrose been in trouble?" "No, some other man, I forget his name. It is foreign and he drinks. But it has all blown over now." Christina sighed. "I don't see how Ambrose came into it, even after your lucid explanation." "Ambrose, that is to say Mr. Sault, is supposed to look after--whatever his name is. It sounds like the name of a cigarette. He is supposed to stop him drinking. And he found this--Moropulos, that's the name, in a bar and hauled him out and Moropulos fought him. I don't know the whole story but I do know that there was a row."