"I like reading nice books _about_ tennis," I said. "If they _are_ nice books, and are really about tennis. Er--do you live in London?" "Yes. It is so handy for the theatres, isn't it? There is no place exactly like London, is there? I mean it's so different." "Well, of course, up in Liverpool we do get the trams, you know, now.... I say, I'm tired of pretending I've only just met you. Let's talk properly." At this moment we heard a voice say, "Let's try in here," and Archie and Dahlia appeared. "Hallo! here's the happy pair," said Myra. They came in and looked at us diffidently. I leant back and gazed at the ceiling. "Were you just going?" said Archie. "We were not," I said. "Then we'll stay and talk to you." "We were in the middle of an important conversation." "Oh, don't mind us." "Thank you. It's really for your benefit, so you'd better listen. Let me see, where were we? Oh yes, 'One pound of beef, ninepence; three pounds of potatoes, fourpence; one piece of emery paper for the blanc-mange, tuppence; one pound of india-rubber----'" "'Dahlia _darling_,'" interrupted Myra, in a fair imitation of Archie's voice, "'how often have I told you that we _can't_ afford india-rubber in the cake? Just a few raisins and a cherry is really all you want. You _mustn't_ be so extravagant.'" "'Dearest, I do try; and after all, love, it wasn't _I_ who fell into the cocoa last night.'" "'I didn't fall in, I simply dropped my pipe in, and it was you insisted on pouring it away afterwards. And then, look at this--_One yard, of lace_, 4s. 6d. That's for the cutlets, I suppose. For people in our circumstances paper frillings are _quite_ sufficient.'" Archie and Dahlia listened to us with open mouths. Then they looked at each other, and then at us again. "Is there any more?" asked Archie. "There's lots more, but we've forgotten it." "You aren't ill or anything?" "We are both perfectly well." "How's Miss Dalton?" "Dora," I said, "is also well. So is Miss Fortescue and so is Thomas. We are all well." "I thought, perhaps----" "No, there you are wrong." "I expect it's just the heat and the excitement," said Dahlia, with a smile. "It takes some people like that." "I'm afraid you miss our little parable," said Myra. "We do. Come on, Dahlia." "You'll pardon me, Archibald, but Miss Blair is dancing this with me." Archie objected strongly, but I left, him with Myra, and took Miss Blair away. We sat on the stairs and thought. "It has been a lovely week," said Dahlia. "It has," I agreed. "Perhaps more lovely for me than for you." "That's just where I don't agree with you. You know, we think it's greatly over-rated. Falling in love, I mean." "Who's 'we'?" "Myra and I. We've been talking it over. That's why we rather dwelt upon the sordid side of it just now. I suppose we didn't move you at all?" "No," said Dahlia, "we're settled."