The Nun and Billy exchanged glances. The Nun nodded to Billy, but he shook his head. Miss Dutton watched them for a moment, then she smiled scornfully. "I don't mind saying it," she observed, and to Andy's astonishment she asked him, "What about your old friend the butcher?" "How did you hear of that?" "Harry Belfield was up one day last week lunching here, and--" "We were awfully amused," the Nun interrupted, with her pretty rare gurgle. "If you'd done it, we were all coming down to buy chops and give you a splendid send-off. I rather wish you had." The imagined scene amused the Nun very much. "Jack Rock? Oh, I couldn't possibly ask him, after refusing his offer!" "What did you say his name was?" the Nun inquired. Andy repeated the name, and the Nun nodded, smiling still. Andy became portentously thoughtful. "We have sown a seed!" said Billy Foot. "I'll drop a word to Gilly to keep the offer open. Now you must go, girls, because I've got some work to do in the world, though you never seem to believe it." "Heavens, I must go too!" cried Andy, with a horrified look at his watch. "All right, you go," said Miss Dutton. "We promised to meet a man here at half-past three and go motoring." "Did we? I don't believe we did," objected the Nun. "I don't think I want to go." "Then don't," said Miss Dutton. "I shall go anyhow." "Well, I'll wait and see the car," the Nun conceded. She did not appear to have any curiosity about its owner. "You really must come and see me--and don't go back to Canada!" she called after Andy. Then, when she was alone with her friend, she said, "No, I shan't come motoring, Sally, I shall go home and write a letter. So much trouble is caused in this world by people being afraid to do the obvious thing. Now I'm never afraid to do the obvious thing." "That's just what you said the night you found me--and took me home with you," said Miss Dutton. She spoke very low, and her voice was strangely soft. "It was the obvious thing to do, and I did it," the Nun pursued, shaking her head at Sally in mild rebuke of an uncalled-for touch of sentiment. "I shall do the obvious thing now. I shall write to Mr. Jack Rock." "You'll get yourself into a row, meddling with other people's business." "Oh no, I shan't," said the Nun serenely. "I shall insist on a personal interview before my action is condemned. I generally come out of personal interviews all right." "Arts and tricks!" said Sally scornfully. "Just an innocent and appealing manner," smiled the Nun. "At any rate, this very afternoon I write to Mr. Rock. He'll produce three thousand pounds, Gilly will get a good partner, Andy Hayes can stay in England, I shall feel I've done a sensible thing. All that just by a letter!" A thought struck her. "I may as well write it here." She called a waiter and asked for notepaper and the A B C railway guide. "Don't wait for me, Sally. This letter will take some time to write."