Amory was just thinking what a gage of intimacy an unembarrassed silence can be when Mr. Strong broke it. He lighted another cigarette at the end of the last, turned, threw the end on the asbestos log, and stood looking at the purring blue and yellow jets. No doubt he was full of the Indian policy again. But as it happened it was not the Indian policy--"Oh," Mr. Strong said, "I meant to ask you--Who was that fellow who came up here one day?" This was so vague that when Amory said "What fellow?" Mr. Strong himself saw the vagueness, and laughed. "Of course: 'How big is a piece of wood?'--I mean the fellow who came to the Witan in a morning-coat?" This was description enough. Amory's back straightened a little. "Oh, Stanhope Tasker! Oh, just the husband of a friend of mine. I don't think you've met her. Why?" Surely, she thought, Mr. Strong was not going to tell her that "Stanhope Tasker was an excellent fellow in his way, but----," as he had said of Mr. Brimby, Mr. Wilkinson and Mr. Prang!---- "Oh, nothing much. Only that I saw him to-day," Strong replied offhandedly. "He's often about. He isn't a very busy man, I should say," Amory remarked. "Saw him in Charing Cross Road as I was coming out of the office," Mr. Strong continued. "I don't think he saw me though." "After his abominable manners to you that day I should think he'd be ashamed to look you in the face." For a moment Mr. Strong looked puzzled; then he remembered, and laughed again. "Oh, I didn't mind that in the least! Rather refreshing in fact. Far more likely he didn't notice me because he had his wife with him. I think you said he was married?" Amory was just about to say that Mr. Strong gave Stan far more magnanimity than he deserved when a thought arrested her. Dorothy in Charing Cross Road! As far as she was aware Dorothy had not been out of Hampstead for weeks, and even then kept to the less frequented parts of the Heath. It wasn't likely.... Her eyes became thoughtful. "Oh? That's funny," she said. "What, that he shouldn't see me? Oh no. They seemed far more interested in electric-light fittings." Amory's eyes grew more thoughtful still--"Oh!" she said; and added, "Did you think her pretty?" "Hm--in a way. Very well dressed certainly; they both were. But I don't think these black Spanish types amuse me much," Mr. Strong replied. Dorothy a black Spanish type! "Oh, do tell me what she had on!" said Amory brightly. She rather thought she knew most of Dorothy's dresses by this time. A black Spanish type! The task of description was too much for Mr. Strong, but he did his best with it. Amory was keenly interested. But she pocketed her interest for the present, and said quite banteringly and with an almost arch look, "Oh, I should have thought Mrs. Tasker exactly your type!" Again the quick motion of Mr. Strong's blue eyes suggested an audible click--"Oh? Why?" he asked.