"Well, I'm not going to marry Musette," he said. "It would be a damned shame." Then he walked across the room and rang the bell. Reggie said nothing. With his head on one side he smoked away thoughtfully at his cigarette. The silence was broken by the entrance of Ropes. "Is the car round?" inquired Tony. "It has been outside exactly twenty minutes, sir," replied Ropes equably. "I have put in the luncheon basket and three bottles of champagne. Everything is quite ready, sir." "Good," said Tony, picking up two or three stray sovereigns from the dressing-table. "I will now put on my coat, Ropes." The impassive man-servant stepped out into the hall, reappearing a moment later with a magnificent astrachan-lined garment, in which Tony proceeded to envelop himself. "If any one should call, sir?" asked Ropes interrogatively. Tony picked up his cap. "Tell them," he said, "that it is more blessed to give than to receive." "Yes, sir," replied Ropes gravely. Three minutes afterwards, with Tony at the wheel and Reggie reclining luxuriously in the beautiful limousine body, the big Rolls-Royce drew noiselessly away down Piccadilly. Whatever Tony's shortcomings might be, he could certainly drive a car. Threading his way through the traffic with a very poetry of judgment, he glided round the corner of Park Lane, and, cutting across the bows of an onrushing motor omnibus, disappeared in the direction of Curzon Street before the indignant brake-grabbing driver of the latter could recall a single adequate word. In front of a small, recently painted house he brought the big six-cylinder to a standstill. Then he turned round. "I'll ring," he said. "Don't you trouble to get out." "I wasn't going to," replied Reggie pleasantly. As a matter of fact, there was no necessity for the exertion, for just as Tony was preparing to disembark, the door of the house opened, and a tall, pleasant-looking girl, neatly dressed in blue serge, stepped out on to the pavement. Tony jumped down and took off his cap, while Reggie gracefully rose and imitated his example. The girl smiled gravely. "I am afraid you must have had a bad night," she said; "you are only twenty minutes late." "Mine is the hand that dragged him from his lair, Miss Gilbert," said Reggie languidly. "But for me he would still be in his bath." The girl looked at him. "That was very kind of you, Mr. Seton," she said gently. "I have heard you are rather an expert at getting out of hot water yourself." Tony chuckled. "Bravo, Musette!" he said. "Right on the point. If you want to follow it up, say you are going to ride inside." Musette's eyes twinkled. "Why, of course!" she said. "Where else should I sit?" Reggie, who was still standing, looked at her appealingly. "You have driven with Tony before," he said, "and you know the risks you are running. Death is much easier on the box-seat. Besides, I want to hold Gwendoline's hand."