"Do you talk it over with Mabel? Isn't Mabel tremendously proud of it?" "She is tremendously proud, but she has great self-restraint." He recalled the end of the perfect day. "As a general rule," he added, "when nothing happens to irritate her." "Does she love you very much?" "I don't remember her mentioning anything of the kind recently. But it's you I want to talk about, Jona. Tell me about your life." "I don't live. I'm marking time. You throw a brick into the stream----" "No," said Luke, "not a brick. I sometimes play boats." "I was going to say," Jona continued, "that the brick remains motionless while the stream goes past it." "But cannot we apply the principle of relativity here?" he asked. "May it not be that the stream stands still while the brick goes past it? It would appear so to the brick." "That's one of your dinky, thinky thoughts, isn't it?" A sound of uproar, of crashes and loud voices, came up from the street below. "I wonder what that is?" said Luke. "It's Bill, probably. He said he'd call for me." She crossed over to the window and looked out. "Yes, that's Bill. Driving the team of zebras he got from Doom Dagshaw. The horses don't seem to like it. There's a cart and horse just gone in at that draper's window. Quite a number of horses seem to have fallen down on the pavement. There's a policeman with a note-book. He seems to be asking Bill questions. And Bill's making him laugh. He manages those zebras perfectly. He does everything well." Luke had joined her at the window. "Who's the lady sitting beside him?" he asked. "One of his harem. Staying with us. Don't pity me. I deserve nothing. I made a mistake once. Don't ask me what. Don't come down with me. Good-bye, Lukie, dear." Luke watched her as she drove off. And then Mr. Diggle entered without knocking. "Who's your lady friend?" said Diggle, snappishly. "I mean the one that's just gone off in the circus. Simply unendurable. The whole street outside my business premises in confusion. I opened my window to look out, and that man pointed me out with his whip and said to the girl beside him: 'That's our Mr. Diggle. If you like our chutney, try our cheddar.' I shall go down and speak to the policeman at once. This sort of thing must be stopped. Come, come, Sharper, give me the name, please." "The lady who called to see me," said Luke, "was Lady Tyburn. It was her husband who was driving the zebras." "That makes a difference. Our spirited young aristocracy! I understand that the firm's productions are used exclusively up at Gallows. Glad you mentioned the name, Sharper." "And can I have that partnership now?" asked Luke. "Not immediately. Get on with your work." * * * * *