"That's exactly it," I said. "I should hate to be settled. It's so much more fun like this. Myra quite agrees with me." Dahlia smiled to herself. "But perhaps some day," she began. "I don't know. I never look more than a week ahead. 'It has been great fun this week, and it will probably be great fun next week.' That's my motto." "Well, ye--es," said Miss Blair doubtfully. PART II CHAPTER I ONE OF THE PLAYERS "Do I know everybody?" I asked Myra towards the end of the dinner, looking round the table. "I think so," said Myra. "If there's anybody you don't see in the window ask for him." "I can see most of them. Who's that tall handsome fellow grinning at me now?" "Me," said Archie, smiling across at us. "Go away," said Myra. "Gentlemen shouldn't eavesdrop. This is a perfectly private conversation." "You've got a lady on each side of you," I said heatedly, "why don't you talk to _them_? It's simply scandalous that Myra and I can't get a moment to ourselves." "They're both busy; they won't have anything to say to me." "Then pull a cracker with yourself. Surely you can think of something, my lad." "He has a very jealous disposition," said Myra, "and whenever Dahlia---- Bother, he's not listening." I looked round the table again to see if I could spy a stranger. "There's a man over there--who's he? Where this orange is pointing." "Oranges don't point. Waggle your knife round. Oh, him? Yes, he's a friend of Archie's--Mr Derry." "Who is he? Does he do anything exciting?" "He does, rather. You know those little riddles in the Christmas crackers?" "Yes?" "Yes. Well, he couldn't very well do those, because he's an electrical engineer." "But why----" "No, I didn't. I simply asked you if you knew them. And he plays the piano beautifully, and he's rather a good actor, and he never gets up till about ten. Because his room is next to mine, and you can hear everything, and I can hear him not getting up." "That doesn't sound much like an electrical engineer. You ask him suddenly what amperes are a penny, and see if he turns pale. I expect he makes up the riddles, after all. Simpson only does the mottoes, I know. Now talk to Thomas for a bit while I drink my orange." Five minutes elapsed, or transpired (whichever it is), before I was ready to talk again. Generally, after an orange, I want to have a bath and go straight off to bed, but this particular one had not been so all-overish as usual. "Now then," I said, as I examined the crystallised fruit, "I'm with you in one minute." Myra turned round and looked absently at me. "I don't know how to begin," she said to herself. "The beginning's easy enough," I explained, as I took a dish of green sweets under my charge, "it's the knowing when to stop." "Can you eat those and listen to something serious?" "I'll try.... Yes, I can eat them all right. Now, let's see if I can listen.... Yes, I can listen all right."