"The man who has all the cards generally does," said Sir Bridgman drily. "Dene will always get there, because he has no axe to grind, and the only thing he respects is brains. That is why he snubs us all so unmercifully," he added with the laugh that always made Sir Lyster wish he wouldn't. "Now I want to consult you about a rather embarrassing question that's on the paper for Friday," said Sir Lyster. Unconscious that he was forming the subject of discussion with the heads of the Admiralty, John Dene, on leaving the First Lord's room, turned to the right and walked quickly in the direction of the main staircase. As he reached a point where the corridor was intersected by another running at right angles, the sudden opening of a door on his left caused him to turn his head quickly. A moment later there was a feminine cry and a sound of broken crockery, and John Dene found himself gazing down at a broken teapot. "Oh!" He looked up from the steaming ruin of newly brewed tea into the violet eyes of the girl who had directed him to the Admiralty. He noticed the purity of her skin, the redness of her lips and the rebelliousness of her corn-coloured hair, which seeming to refuse all constraint clung about her head in little wanton tendrils. "That's my fault," said John Dene, removing his hat. "I'm sorry." "Yes; but our tea," said the girl in genuine consternation; "we're rationed, you know." "Rationed?" said John Dene. "Yes; we only get two ounces a week each," she said with a comical look of despair. "Gee!" cried John Dene, then he asked suddenly: "What are you?" The girl looked at him in surprise, a little stiffly. "Can you type? Never mind about the tea." "But I do mind about the tea." She found John Dene's manner disarming. "I take it you're a stenographer. Now tell me your name. I'll see about the tea." He had whipped out a note-book and pencil. "Hurry, I've got a cable to send." Seeing that she was reluctant to give her name, he continued: "Never mind about your name. Be in the First Lord's room to-morrow at eleven o'clock; I'll see you there;" and with that he turned quickly, resumed his hat and retraced his steps. Without knocking, he pushed open the door of Mr. Blair's room, walked swiftly across and opened the door leading to that of the First Lord. "Here!" he cried, "where can I buy a pound of tea?" If John Dene had asked where he could borrow an ichthyosaurus, Sir Lyster and Sir Bridgman could not have gazed at him with more astonishment. "You can't," said Sir Bridgman, at length, his eyes twinkling as he watched the expression on Sir Lyster's face. "Can't!" cried John Dene. "Tea's rationed--two ounces a week," explained Sir Bridgman. "Anyhow I've got to buy a pound of tea. I've just smashed up the teapot of a girl in the corridor." "I'm afraid it's impossible," said Sir Lyster with quiet dignity.