There was a dancing light of amusement in Thalia Drummond’s eyes and she laughed silently. “All right,” she said, with a little shrug of her shoulders. “Let it go at that. Now, I suppose, having saved me from ruin, you’re going to ask me a favour? I’ll set your mind at rest about the money. I took it because I had a good home for it. I need money frequently and anyway there have been lots of postal robberies lately. There was a long article in the paper about it the other day. Now go ahead.” Milly Macroy, who had not a slight acquaintance with the criminal classes, stared at the girl in amazement. “You’re ice all right,” she nodded, “but you’ve got to cut out this cheap pilfering, otherwise you’re liable to spoil a real big thing and I can’t afford to see it spoilt. If you want a share of big money you’ve got to come in with people who are working big--do you get that?” “I get it,” said Thalia, “and who are your collaborators?” Miss Macroy did not recognise the term but answered discreetly: “There’s a gentleman I know----” “Say ‘man’,” said Thalia. “Gentleman always reminds me of a tailor’s ad.” “Well, a man if you like,” said the patient Miss Macroy. “He’s a friend of mine and he’s been watching you for a week or two, and he thinks you’re the kind of clever girl who might make a lot of money without trouble. I told him about the other affair and he wants to see you.” “Another admirer?” asked Thalia Drummond with a lift of her perfect eyebrows, and Macroy’s face darkened. “There’ll be none of that, you understand, Drummond,” she said decisively. “This fellow and I are sort of--engaged.” “Heaven forbid,” said Thalia Drummond piously, “that I should come between two loving hearts.” “And you needn’t be sarcastic either,” said Macroy, redder still. “I tell you that there’s to be no lovey-dovey stuff in this. It’s real business, you understand?” Thalia played with her paper-knife. Presently she asked: “Suppose I don’t want to come into your combination?” Milly Macroy looked suspiciously at the girl. “Come and have a bit of dinner after the bank closes,” she said. “Nothing but invitations to dinner,” murmured Thalia and the nimble-witted Milly Macroy jumped at the truth. “The old boy asked you to dinner, did he?” she demanded. “Well, ain’t that luck!” She whistled and her eyes brightened. She was about to offer a confidence, but changed her mind. “He’s got loads of money out of money-lending. My dear, I can see you with a diamond necklace in a week or two!” Thalia straightened herself and took up her pen. “Pearls are my weakness,” she said. “All right, Macroy, I’ll see you to-night,” and she went on working. Milly Macroy lingered. “Look here, you’re not going to tell this gentleman what I said about my being engaged to him, are you?” “There’s Brab’s bell,” said Thalia, rising and taking up her notebook as a buzzer sounded. “No, I’m not going to discuss anything of the kind--I hate fairy stories anyway.”