And when he wasn't there the Bungalow was shut and locked. I think I have said that Hermione was the most daring girl imaginable. She went one day ("Well, doesn't the field belong to us?") and looked in at first one window and then another. She said there was nothing but a stove and packing-cases in the room she could see into. And she brought back a bewildering account of what had been done to the windows of the other room. There were no curtains and no blinds, but thick brown paper had been pasted over the glass of each lower sash. You could no more see in than you could see through the wall. The top sashes were down, and Hermione naturally thought he must be there. So she called "Mr. Annan!" quite loud. But he wasn't there after all, she said. Of course, the next time she met him on the links she began to tease him about papering up his windows. "And how can you see?" "Oh, quite well, thank you." "Well, anyhow, I don't believe you read all the time. Nobody could read the whole day and half the night." No, he didn't read all the time. "What do you do then?" Ah, there was no telling. And that was true. There was no getting Eric to tell you anything he didn't want to. Hermione announced that she had been to call. "Yes," he said, "I heard you call." She stared. "You don't mean to say you were in there all the time?" "Yes, I was there," he said, going on with his putting practice quite at his ease. Hermione was speechless for a moment, and that was the only time in my life I ever saw Hermione blush. "What a monster you were not to come out when you heard me!" "Sorry, but I was too busy," he said. "I always _am_ busy when I'm at the Bungalow." She was still rather red, but laughing, too. "I suppose, then, you heard me try the door?" (She hadn't told us she had gone as far as that.) "Yes, I heard you try the door." "Well, you _are_ an extraordinary being--shutting yourself up with brown paper pasted over the windows----" "----only the lower half, and none at all over the skylight." "Sitting there behind brown paper, with the door locked!" He laughed. "You see how necessary my precautions are." "I believe you do something in there you're ashamed of." "Well, I'm not very proud of what I do. Not yet." She clutched Barbara's arm. "Babs," she said in a loud whisper, "he makes bombs." "Sh! not so loud, please." Eric looked solemnly across the links to where Eddie Monmouth was giving Bettina her first lesson in hitting off. "No, it isn't bombs," Hermione said, after a moment. "You make counterfeit money." "If ever I make any money," Eric agreed, "it will have to be counterfeit." * * * * *