“Don’t be a fool,” said Lola wearily. “Am I likely to boast about it?” He grinned and resumed his pacings. Presently he heard the faint tinkle of the bell and glanced at the girl. She got up, shook the cushions and nodded. “Open the door,” she said, and the man went out of the room obediently. Ray Bennett crossed the room with quick strides and caught the girl’s hand in both of his. “I’m late. Old Johnson kept me running round after the clerks had gone. Moses, this is a fine room, Lola! I hadn’t any idea you lived in such style.” “You know Lew Brady?” Ray nodded smilingly. He was a picture of happiness, and the presence of Lew Brady made no difference to him. He had met Lola at a supper club, and knew that she and Brady had some business association. Moreover, Ray prided himself upon that confusion of standards which is called “broad-mindedness.” He visualized a new social condition which was superior to the bondage which old-fashioned rules of conduct imposed upon men and women in their relationship one to the other. He was young, clean-minded, saw things as he would have them be. Breadth of mind not infrequently accompanies limitation of knowledge. “Now for your wonderful scheme,” he said as, at a gesture from her, he settled himself by the girl’s side. “Does Brady know?” “It is Lew’s idea,” she said lightly. “He is always looking out for opportunities—not for himself but for other people.” “It’s a weakness of mine,” said Lew apologetically. “And anyway, I don’t know if you’ll like the scheme. I’d have taken it on myself, but I’m too busy. Did Lola tell you anything about it?” Ray nodded. “I can’t believe it,” he said. “I always thought such things belonged to magazine stories! Lola says that the Government of Japan wants a secret agent in London. Somebody they can disown, if necessary. But what is the work?” “There you’ve got me,” said Lew, shaking his head. “So far as I can discover, you’ve nothing to do but live! Perhaps they’ll want you to keep track of what is going on in the political world. The thing I don’t like about it is that you’ll have to live a double life. Nobody must know that you’re a clerk at Maitlands. You can call yourself by any name you like, and you’ll have to make your domestic arrangements as best you know.” “That will be easy,” interrupted the boy. “My father says I ought to have a room in town—he thinks the journey to and from Horsham every day is too expensive. I fixed that with him on Sunday. I shall have to go down to the cottage some week-ends—but what am I to do, and to whom do I report?” Lola laughed softly. “Poor boy,” she mocked. “The prospect of owning a beautiful flat and seeing me every day is worrying him.” CHAPTER VI MR. MAITLAND GOES SHOPPING