Dorothy Lennard had called Mr. Massey the safety-valve because he always seemed to use three times as many "s's" in his conversation as anybody else. These escaped over a neat little row of very white lower teeth like those of a bulldog. The dark hair that grew up the sides of his head always reminded Amory of the elastics of an old pair of boots, and his cropped dark moustache did not interfere with his perpetual gentle hissing. He wore gold glasses and a closely-buttoned frock-coat; he was an educational bookseller in St. Mark's Road; and it had now been known for some hours in the boarding-house that he, a man of some substance, had been moved to come to Glenerne first of all by the sight of Miss Geraldine Towers shaking the crumb-tray out of the window to feed the birds. "My dear Amory," said Mr. Massey, "Geraldine has asked me to come and see whether you won't join the rest of us in our little celebration. I need not say that it would be pleasant if you would assist." Without (she thought) too open an appearance of resignation, Amory closed her book again. She supposed she must.... "All right, if you like," she said, without fervour. "Thank you," said Mr. Massey gratefully. "I was sure you would not absent yourself.--And since I am here, I wonder whether I might say a word for which occasion has not hitherto presented itself?" Amory was silent, noting the educational bookseller's periods. He continued. "It is perhaps a little too early to speak of it, but it might set your mind at rest. When Geraldine and I are married, in July if all be well, I do not want you to feel that any difference to yourself will be made. Your home, if you wish it, will still be with us." Amory broke out a little quickly, as if not to leave it for a moment in doubt that she was properly grateful, "Oh, thank you so very much, Mr. Massey----" "George--or Uncle George----" said Mr. Massey gently. "--Uncle George--and I do hope you won't think me horrid--but I thought of living in my studio----" Mr. Massey made a little calming gesture with his hands, as if to say that all should be exactly as she pleased. He nodded several times. "I understand; your art; you know best; don't think I wish to put the least constraint on you. I only want to assure you that your aunt's house is always at your disposal," he said kindly. "Thank you so much," said Amory hurriedly; and there was a sudden pause. "It will probably," Mr. Massey went on deliberatively, as if he passed a succession of desirable dwellings in mental review, "be on the Mall. Yes, Chiswick Mall. One sees such sweet sketches there, especially of sunsets. But in case you do elect to occupy your studio, there will be a little business we shall have to arrange. It may even include a little money. But we can talk of that later.--Shall we join the others, my dear?"