Mr. Prohack collected himself. On several occasions during the previous afternoon and evening he had meditated somewhat uneasily upon the domestic difficulties which might inhere in this impulsive engagement of Miss Winstock as a private secretary, but since waking up the affair had not presented itself to his mind. He had indeed completely forgotten it. "Who told you all this?" he asked warily. "Well, she told Machin and Machin told me." "Let me see now," said Mr. Prohack. "Yes. It's quite true. After ordering a pair of braces yesterday morning, I did order a secretary. She was recommended to me." "You didn't say anything about it yesterday." "My dove, had I a chance to do so? Had we a single moment together? And you know how I was when we reached home, don't you?... You see, I always had a secretary at the Treasury, and I feel sort of lost without one. So I--" "But, darling, _of course_! I always believe in letting you do exactly as you like. It's the only way.... Au revoir, my pet. Charlie will be frightfully angry with me." And then, at the door: "If she hasn't got anything to do she can always see to the flowers for me. Perhaps when I come back you'll introduce us." As soon as he had heard the bang of the front-door Mr. Prohack rang his bell. "Machin, I understand that my secretary is waiting in the dining-room." "Yes, sir." "Ask her to take her things off and then bring her up here." "Up here, sir?" "That's right." In seven movements of unimaginable stealthy swiftness Machin tidied the worst disorders of the room and departed. Mr. Prohack continued his breakfast. Miss Winstock appeared with a small portable typewriter in her arms and a notebook lodged on the typewriter. She was wearing a smart black skirt and a smart white blouse with a high collar. In her unsullied freshness of attire she somewhat resembled a stage secretary on a first night; she might have been mistaken for a brilliant imitation of a real secretary. II "Good morning. So you're come," Mr. Prohack greeted her firmly. "Good morning. Yes, Mr. Prohack." "Well, put that thing down on a chair somewhere." Machin also had entered the room. She handed a paper to Mr. Prohack. "Mistress asked me to give you that, sir." It was a lengthy description, typewritten, of a house in Manchester Square. "Pass me those matches, please," said Mr. Prohack to Mimi when they were alone. "By the way, why wouldn't you give your name when you arrived?" "Because I didn't know what it was." "Didn't know what it was?"