Her voice came mechanically too; it had a deadened sound. The boy’s sharp eyes scanned her with pert curiosity. As she took the telegram, he pursed his lips to a whistle, but no sound issued from them. She read the message in a sort of suspended silence that was peculiarly intense. “_I am in need of secretarial help if you care to resume your position here as a temporary measure. Please come to-night or wire. Rotherby. The Palace. Burminster._” A voice out of the void! A forgotten voice, but none the less clear! She looked up as it were through thinning mists and saw the boy’s bright eyes watching her. Why was he interested, she wondered? What could it matter to him? “Any answer, miss?” he suggested helpfully, and now she saw a gleam in the little rat-keen eyes and understood. “No, none,” she said, “none. I shall answer it in person.” He looked pinched for a moment, and then he grinned cheerily, impudently, philosophically. “That’s right, miss,” he said. “Don’t you lose no more time about it! Time’s money to most of us.” And with that he turned to go, but sharply, on impulse, she stayed him. “Boy, wait!” He waited at once. “Yes, miss? Anything I can do for you?” “No, nothing,” she said, “nothing. You have already done—much more than you know.” She pushed a hand down into the pocket of her rain-coat and found a halfpenny that had been there ever since the coat had been new. “I’ve carried this for luck,” she said, and managed to smile. “It’s all I can offer you. Will you have it?” He stared at her for a second, then his shrewd grin reappeared. “Not unless you’ll toss me for it,” he said. “There’d be no luck without.” She accepted the sporting suggestion. Strangely, in that moment, it appealed to her. She needed trivialities as never before. “You can toss if you like,” she said. He took the coin and spun it, caught it deftly, and looked at her. “Heads, miss?” he questioned. “Yes, heads,” she agreed. He slapped it forthwith on to the tray and handed it to her. “Heads it is—and I wish you good luck!” he said. She picked up her halfpenny, for there was a compelling look in his eye which warned her that she was expected to play the game. “Thank you,” she said, finding nothing else to say. He drew himself up with a comic assumption of the grand manner. His little beady eyes twinkled humorous appreciation of her action. “You’re welcome, miss,” he said ceremoniously, and turning, tramped away with his salver under his arm. He left her laughing in a fashion that eased the tension of her nerves and took from her that terrible hysterical feeling of being off her balance that had so nearly overwhelmed her. She returned the halfpenny to her pocket and sat motionless for a few seconds to recover.