And while driving to Curzon Street she reflected how very magnanimous it really was, seeing that she had no wish for Jim's company. To be tied to that log again was scarcely worth the income. Besides, Jim, who had no sense of decency, would assuredly laugh his loudest at the thought of her unnecessary trouble. He would not even thank her for giving him his rights, although he must know that it was sorely against the grain for her to put up with his boring society. But in spite of Jim's probable ingratitude, she would behave as his wife--as the lenient woman she felt herself to be. Certainly her common sense recognised that he was returning from his sham grave with gifts in his hands, but of those she was the giver. And, seeing that she could betray his share in the conspiracy without inculpating herself, Leah foresaw the possession of limitless power to enforce obedience. That power she resolved to utilise for the purpose of getting her own unfettered way, and all the money she required for contemplated extravagances. Also, she intended to stop Jim's illicit flirtations. Now that he was a peer of the realm he would have "to purge and live cleanly," after the fashion of one Sir John Falstaff, Knight. "We owe that much to society," thought Leah, virtuously, and considered the rumoured doings of black sheep who would be cast out of the Mayfair fold were their housetops removed. That the shifting of the Curzon Street mansion tiles might also be attended with danger she did not pause to consider. On the ensuing afternoon Askew arrived to say farewell; but, as circumstances were too embarrassing to permit of her taking any interest in other people's affairs, she declined to see him. Nevertheless, he urged a personal interview, on the plea that he would be absent for months. She yielded very unwillingly, as her nerves clamoured for some outward sign of emotion, which by the rules of society she would be obliged to suppress. "I know I shall be horribly rude," murmured Lady Jim, when the footman left the room to introduce the visitor; "but he has brought it on himself"--which excuse she considered ample for ensuing impoliteness. Askew, with mistaken consideration, entered the drawing-room almost on tiptoe, and proceeded forthwith to condole with her in stage whispers. She soon put a stop to this artificial sympathy. Further reference to life beyond the grave she could not and would not stand, as she told him crisply. "Don't talk funeral, unless you wish to see me wreck the room. I have had months of crying and crape and condoling." "But the sad circumstances----" "Are such that I did not wish to see you," she retorted, finishing his sentences for him as usual, after her old fashion. "I feel so scratchy that I declined your visit out of sheer pity. But you would insist, so don't blame me if I am disagreeable." "You can never be disagreeable," said Askew, soothingly. "Can't I? You wait ten minutes and see." "I think I had better go, Lady Jim."