moonlight to the approving murmur of the spruce trees, should stand as his one title of character against which no _caveat_ might be registered. He was turning this very matter over in his mind, and wondering what the end would be, when a knock came at the door. "Come," he said, switching on the light. . . "Oh, it's you, Bert. I am honoured. Sit down." The girl threw her coat over a chair and sank into another. Without speaking she extended her shapely feet to the fire, but when its soothing warmth had comforted her limbs she looked up and said, "Adam sure put it over on us, didn't he?" "Still nursing that grievance over your sex," laughed Dave. "I thought you would outgrow it." "I don't blame him," continued the girl, ignoring his interruption. "I am just getting back from forty-seven teas. Gabble, gabble, gabble. I don't blame him. We deserve it." "Then you have had nothing to eat?" "Almost. Only insignificant indigestibles." Dave pressed a button, and a Chinese boy (all male Chinese are boys) entered, bowing in that deference which is so potent to separate the white man from his silver. The white man glories in being salaamed, especially by an Oriental, who can grovel with a touch of art. And the Oriental has not been slow to capitalize his master's vanity. "Bring something to eat. Go out for it, and be quick. For two." "Ice cleam? Toast? Tea--" "No! Something to eat! Soup, flied chicken, hot vegetables, dessert, everything." "You've had your dinner, surely?" asked Bert. "Such a dinner as a man eats alone," he answered. "Now for something real. You stick to the paper like the ink, don't you, Bert?" "Can't leave it. I hate it--and I love it. It's my poison and my medicine. Most of all I hate the society twaddle. And, of course, that's what I have to do." "And you write it up so gloriously," said Dave. "Enthusiasm in every line of it." "You read it, then? I thought all men looked on the society page with contempt." "They do. But they look on it just the same--long enough to see whether their names appear among those present." "Or whose husband is out of town?" "You're growing more cynical all the time." "How can I help it, when I see both sides of the game? If I printed half what I know I'd have every lawyer in this city busy to-morrow--except those who skipped out over-night." "You know it," Dave agreed. "But here is dinner." The boy wheeled a table between them, and there was a savoury smell of hot food.