"I don't believe there's anything that gives more pleasure than good dancing. Dancing ought to be the expression of life's joy," said the older woman, gazing at the pigeon-holes full of docketed files, at the bookshelves stuffed with dry volumes of Ethics and Politics and Economics, as if half regretting she, too, was not in the Orient Ballet. "Dancing is the oldest art," she continued. "I like to think they danced the spring in long before calendars were made. Your subscription is half a crown a year." Jenny produced the coin from her bag; and it said much for Miss Bailey's personality that the new member to adorn the action did not wink over her shoulder at Lilli. "Thank you. Here's the badge. It's copied from an old Athenian medal. This is Pallas Athene, the Goddess of Wisdom." "She isn't much to look at, is she?" commented Jenny. "My dear child, that's the owl." Jenny turned the medal over and contemplated the armed head. Then she put it carefully away in her purse, wondering if the badge would bring her luck. "Now, I shall let Lilli show you round the club rooms, for I'm very busy this afternoon," said Miss Bailey in gentle dismissal. The two girls left the study and set out to explore the rest of the house. Over the mantlepiece of the principal room Jenny saw Mona Lisa and drew back so quickly that she trod on Lilli's foot. "I'm not going in there," she said. "Why not? It's a nice room." "I'm not going in. I don't want to," she repeated, without any explanation of her whim. "All right. Let's go downstairs. We can have tea."