Mrs. Billy (_née_ Amaranth Macquart-Smith) was also of the party. Among these sallies she spread the new-fledged wings of her wit rather timidly. To say the truth, she was not witty, but felt bound to try--a case somewhat parallel to his at whom her shaft was aimed. She was liked well enough in the circle, yet would hardly have entered it without Billy's passport. "He waits to be accepted," she complained, "as a girl waits to be asked." "Used to!" briefly corrected Miss Dutton. Billy Foot cut deeper into the case. "He's never imagined before that he could have a chance against Harry. He's got the idea now, but it takes time to sink in." "Harry's out of it anyhow," drawled Gilly. "Out of what?" asked the Nun. Billy's nod acknowledged the import of the question. Out of reason, out of possibility, out of bounds! Not out of memory, of echo, of the mirror of things not to be forgotten. "He still thinks he can't compete with Harry," she went on, "and he's right as far as this game is concerned. But he'll win just by not competing. To be utterly different is his chance." With a glance round the table, she appealed to their experience. "Nobody ever begins by choosing Andy--well, except Jack Rock perhaps, and that was to be a butcher! But he ends by being indispensable." "You all like him," said Amaranth. "And yet you all give the impression that he's terribly dull!" Her voice complained of an enigma. "Well, don't you know, what would a fellow do without him?" asked Gilly, looking up from his _paté_. "Gilly has an enormous respect for him. He's shamed him into working," Billy explained to his wife. "That's it, by Jove!" Gilly acknowledged sadly. "And the worst of it is, work pays! Pays horribly well! We're getting rich. I've got to go on with it." He winked a leisurely moving eyelid at the Nun. "I wish the deuce I'd never met the fellow!" "I must admit he points the moral a bit too well," Billy confessed. "But I'm glad to say we have Harry to fall back upon. I met Harry in the street the other day, and he was absolutely radiant." "Who is she?" asked Sally Dutton. "Not a bit, Sally! He's just given up Lady Lucy. Going straight again, don't you know? Off to the seaside with his wife and kid." "How long has Lady Lucy lasted?" asked Gilly. The Nun gurgled. "I should like to have that set to music," she explained. "The alliteration is effective, Gilly, and I would give it a pleasing lilt." "I don't wish to hear you sing it," said Billy, in a voice none too loud. Amaranth was looking about the room, and an implied reference to bygones was harmlessly agreeable. "With his wife and his kid, to the Bedford at Brighton," Billy continued, after his aside. "From something he let fall, I gathered that the Freeres were going to be at the Norfolk." Amaranth did not see the point. "I don't know the Freeres," she remarked.