“Bright kid,” he said, “--getting away with it, Creevy tells me. Shill and I are putting a lot of money into this picture----” Passengers from the train just arrived were now pouring out of the exit, recognising waiting friends behind the ropes, signalling them with eager gestures, hurrying around the barriers to meet them. Annan, ignoring Smull, and intently scanning the throng, finally perceived Ratford Creevy and Emil Shunk. Behind them, in the crowd, were other faces slightly familiar--members of the cast--and suddenly he saw Eris in a turquoise blue toque and summer gown, carrying her satchel,--a lithe, buoyant figure, moving quickly through the gates followed by a red-cap with her luggage. Smull, perhaps not caring to bend too much at the waist, went around the rope; Annan stooped under it. “Barry!” she exclaimed in happy surprise. “It’s been a thousand years,” he said. “I’ve a taxi here----” Smull, smiling eagerly out of dark eyes set a trifle too closely, and carrying his straw hat in his hand, confronted them. “How do you do, Mr. Smull,” said Eris gaily, withdrawing her gloved hand from Annan’s and offering it to Smull. “You’re looking fine, Eris,” he said, with too cordial familiarity. “I just passed Creevy and he says everything went big. Glad you’re back, little lady. I’ve a car here----” “Thank you, Mr. Smull----” The girl turned to Annan: “Mr. Smull wired me that he’d meet our train.... So thank _you_, too--for asking me.... I’m so sorry you have troubled to keep a taxi waiting for me----” Smull, always smiling, turned to Annan: “Can’t we drop you somewhere, old chap?” Annan said: “Thanks, no.” And, looking at Eris with cool curiosity, he took off his hat. “I’m so glad you’re back,” he said. “I hope I may see you while you’re here. Good-night.” “Good-night,” she replied, as though slightly confused. Annan bowed pleasantly, including them both, and turned to the left along the rope. The girl went rather slowly away beside Smull, followed by the red-cap with her luggage. Outside the station, on the ramp above, Annan found his taxi and got into it. All the way home he stared persistently at the chauffeur’s frowsy head; but, whatever his thoughts, nothing on his smoothly composed features betrayed them. As he entered his house the telephone was ringing, and he went to the lower one in the butler’s pantry. “Barry!” “Yes.” “Are you coming to dinner?” “I had expected to.” “Could you come _now_?” “Where are you?” “Why, at home, of course.” “Alone?” “Alone!----” she repeated. “Why, yes, of course I am alone. I said seven, but I want you now. I can’t wait. Do you mind?” “All right,” he said drily. At such moments, in most young men in love, the asinine instinct dominates. Still chilled by the unpleasant impression of an intimacy, the natural existence of which he had never thought about, he went to his room and got into a dinner jacket, sulkily.