“Quite a little-bit-of-fluffy-all-right,” he whispered to Michael, seeming to calculate with geometrical eyes the arcs and semicircles of the barmaid’s form. She with her nose in the air poured out the liquid, and Michael wondered how any of it went into the glass. As a matter of fact, most of it splashed onto the bar, whence Drake presently took his change all bedewed with alcohol, and, lifting his glass, wished Michael a jolly good chin-chin. “’D luck,” Michael muttered in response. “_My_ lord!” Drake began again. “Fancy meeting you of all people. And not a bit different. I said to myself: ‘I’m jiggered if that isn’t old Bangs,’ and—well, _my_ lord! but I was surprised. Do you often come out on the randan?” “Not very often,” Michael admitted. “I just happened to be alone to-night.” “Good for you, old sport. What have you been doing since you left school?” “I’m just down from Oxford,” Michael informed him. “Pretty good spree up there, eh?” “Oh, yes, rather,” said Michael. “Well, I had the chance to go,” said Drake. “But it wasn’t good enough. It’s against you in the City, you know. Waste of time really, except of course for a parson or a schoolmaster.” “Yes, I expect it would have been rather a waste of time for you,” Michael agreed. “Oh, rotten! So you moved from—where was it?—Carlington Road?” “Yes, we moved to Cheyne Walk.” “Let’s see. That’s in Hampstead, isn’t it?” “Well, it’s rather nearer the river,” suggested Michael. “Are you still in Trelawny Road?” “Yes, still in the same old hovel. My hat! Talking of Trelawny Road, it _is_ a small world. Who do you think I saw last week?” “Not Lily Haden?” Michael asked, in spite of a wish not to rise so quickly to Drake’s hook. “You’re right. I saw the fair Lily. But where do you think I saw her? Bangs, old boy, I tell you I’m not a fellow who’s easily surprised. But this knocked me. Of course, you’ll understand the Hadens flitted from Trelawny Road soon after you stopped calling. So who knows what’s happened since? I give you three guesses where I saw her.” “I hate riddles,” said Michael fretfully. “At the Orient,” said Drake solemnly. “The Orient Promenade. You could have knocked me down with a feather.” Michael stared at Drake, scarcely realizing the full implication of what he just announced. Then suddenly he grasped the horrible fact that revealed to him here in a music-hall carried a double force. His one instinct for the moment was to prevent Drake from knowing into what depths his news had plunged him. “Has she changed?” asked Michael, and could have kicked himself for the question. “Well, of course there was a good deal of powder,” said Drake. “I’m not easily shocked, but this gave me a turn. She was with a man, but even if she hadn’t been, I doubt if I’d have had the nerve to talk to her. I wouldn’t have known what to say. But, of course, you know, her mother was a bit rapid. That’s where it is. Have another drink. You’re looking quite upset.”