"So clever," Saxham answered harshly, "that I shall probably regret it to the end of my days. In the whole of my practice I have never known a well-meant deceit do any good—rather the opposite. Consequently, I preach to my patients Truth before everything—and break down and lie when my own turn comes—like the damned coward I am." "We shall leave here now in a few minutes," went on the Doctor, glowering at his chronometer. "I sent Keyse away with the car upon a message. He will be here to take us home to Harley Street at half-past nine. You have ample time to telephone to Berkeley Square for your clothes and so on.... Lady Beauvayse’s maid can pack them for you, I presume?" "Oh, yes. She’s decent in the way of doing things for me." "Very well." The Doctor left the telegraph-hut, and Patrine ’phoned to Berkeley Square. Then, with a sudden recollection of an appointment which must be cancelled, she gave the number that meant Margot’s newly-furnished mansion, and presently heard the little bird-like voice chirping: "Yes, this is 00, Cadogan Place. I’m Lady Norwater! ... Is that you, Pat? Yes? What cheer? ... I’m having a long, deadly domestic evening. Franky’s reading an improving book aloud to me—at least he was when you rang up—’Matrimony for Beginners. A Handbook to Happiness,’ it’s called. But I don’t believe the man who wrote it ever had a live wife." "Probably not. Margot, pet, I can’t possibly lunch with you to-morrow!" "Don’t say you back out because of the book! Fits has got it now under the sofa." Fits was Franky’s lady bull-terrier. "And by the time she’s done with it there won’t be much left. Say you’ll come!" Margot urged. "Franky’s got to test a new car—so Rhona Helvellyn’s coming with two or three Militant pals of hers. I’ll give you lobster _Américaine_ and cold lamb in mint aspic—and strawberry mousse. There!" "I’m frightfully sorry, my dinkie, but it simply can’t be!" "What tosh! And we’re going to talk over ideas for speeches at the Monster Meeting of Women in October at the Royal Hall. And Rhona has a Grand Slam in the way of surprises—did she say anything to you about the Mansion House Banquet demonstration she’s thought of for Monday night?" "Yes, and I’m down on it—like houses!" declared Patrine. "Is Rhona really spoiling for a taste of skilly and yard-exercise? Don’t you get mixed up. Think of Franky reading the paragraphs: ’POPULAR YOUNG PEERESS ON THE SUFFRAGE WAR-PATH. SOCIETY BEAUTY HECKLES THE LORD MAYOR! VISCOUNTESS NORWATER BURSTS UPON BANQUETING BISHOPS, IN THE CHARACTER OF A WOMAN WHO WANTS A VOTE!’" Patrine called good-bye and rang off, turning with the smile upon her lips to see Sherbrand standing behind her with a long white coat upon his arm. "I have brought you a wrap. A lady forgot it here the other day. Let me help you to put it on." Patrine shivered as he drew the large loose garment round her. It was a white Malta blanket-coat, very soft and fleecy and warm.