"No," he said. "It's this account. I can't make it out. See if you can." Sally went and stood close to him, leaning over to examine the books, so that his shoulder touched her side. She knew that the contact thrilled him, and for an instant was so occupied with the recognition that she could not collect her thoughts. He had been adding up in pencil on a sheet of paper the two series of entries, and there was a discrepancy between them. Sally checked his figures: there seemed nothing wrong with them. She herself added the two series of entries. Then, with a pointed finger she counted the entries. One of them had been omitted. Another examination showed which of them it was. She had solved his mystification. Her small forefinger pointed to that entry which accounted for the difference in the two casts. Gaga looked up at her in wondering admiration. "What a marvellous girl you are!" he impulsively ejaculated. "I've been worrying over this for ten minutes. Thank you. Er--thank you." Still she did not immediately leave him, and he made no attempt to move. It would have been the easiest thing for Gaga to encircle her with his arm, but he did not do so. At last Sally started away. "I must go," she said breathlessly. "Thank you, Miss Minto. I'm.... I'm so much ... obliged," stammered Gaga. She was at the door. "Oh, Miss Minto...." Sally turned, a mischievous expectancy upon her face. "Er...." Gaga swallowed. A faint colour rose to his grey cheeks. "I say, I wish you'd come out to dinner with me. I...." "Oh, Mr. Bertram," murmured Sally. "It's very kind of you. I...." "_Do_ come. I'm ... so much obliged to you, you know. I mean, I...." Sally gave a quick nod. She peeped to see that Miss Summers had not returned. "Well, you see," she said. Then: "All right, I will. Thank you very much."