'But oughtn't you to go back to your wife? I daresay she's counting the minutes. Nothing could ever grow prosaic to her, not even being married to you.' 'She's gone out somewhere, with Anne Yeo, I think. Do, Eugenia; I shall never ask you again. Just for once, like old times. I couldn't stand the idea of going to see you at Selsey House; it depressed and irritated me. This is different.' 'All right,' said Eugenia. 'Then make the most of it. I shan't do it again.' 'Where shall we drive?' 'I've always wondered what happened at the very end of the Cromwell Road. Let's drive there, and then you can leave me at home. That will be quite a long way. It's rather a mad idea, Cecil, but it's fun. Isn't it just like Ted to ask you to take me home? You see what a darling, clever creature he is. He guessed--he knew we should be a little excited at meeting again. He wanted to get it over by leaving us quite free to talk.' 'I must say I shouldn't have done that in his place,' said Cecil. 'Oh, you! You might have had some cause of jealousy. He never could. But don't think I shall allow any more freaks like this. In a way I'm rather pleased you haven't forgotten me, Cecil.' 'Who could ever forget you? Who could ever get tired of you?' 'You could; and you would have by now, if I had been foolish enough to marry you.' She seemed to Cecil, as ever, a delightful medley of impulses, whims, and fancies. For him there was always some magic about her; in her pale radiance he still found the old dazzling, unaccountable charm.... 'Hyacinth, do let us score off Lady Cannon, and get the housemaid without her help.' 'Why, I have, Anne, I advertised all by myself. Several came to see me yesterday.' 'Well, what did you do about it?' 'Nothing particular. Oh yes; I did. I wrote down the address of one or two. Emma Sinfield, Maude Frick, Annie Crutcher, and Mary Garstin. Which shall I have, Anne--which name do you like best?' 'Emma Sinfield, I think, or if she doesn't do, I rather fancy Garstin. Where does Emma live?' 'In the Cromwell Road. We ought to go and ask for her character today.' 'You go, then, and I'll go with you. You won't know what to ask. I'll do it for you.' 'All right. We may as well drive there as anywhere.' Anne declared the character quite satisfactory, for Emma Sinfield's late employer, although displaying the most acute conscientiousness, could find no fault with her except a vaulting ambition and wild desire to better herself, which is not unknown in other walks of life, and they were driving away in the motor when they came face to face with Cecil and Eugenia in a hansom. He was talking with so much animation that he did not see them. She was looking straight before her. Hyacinth turned pale as death and seized Anne's hand. Anne said nothing. CHAPTER XXXIII The Quarrel