By Jove, I turned cold for a minute, I was that startled. I thought he was going to use the pajamas as an introduction for reference to last night. But in a minute I saw that he did not mean that. "Where on earth did _you_ get anything like this?" And he held up the button and the garment. "Oh, I say now!" I remonstrated, alarm changing to a mild dudgeon. Billings' devilish rude manners are so offensive at times. "What do you mean? It's a present from a friend in China." "Present!" Billings' eyes bulged queerly. He stooped toward me, whispering: "Did he know what this button was?" "Why, of course he didn't," I answered indignantly. "Never dreamed of it, of course. I tell you, it was all nicely covered, was what-you-call-it--upholstered, you know--with devilish nice silk. I cut it off accidentally, trying to force the thing through that loop. That left the marble exposed." Billings took the glass mechanically from the tray tendered by Jenkins and sipped it slowly, eying me curiously over the top. Then he set it back, very deliberately, wiped his mouth with the bit of napery, and without taking his glance from me, waited until Jenkins had left the room. Whereupon, after another searching look at the button, he dropped it with the garment upon the table, and with hands jammed deep in his pockets, faced me with a long-drawn whistle. "Well, I'll be hanged!" he exclaimed. Just a coarse, vulgar outburst, you know--no sense to it; no point at all, you know--that's Billings. He caught up the coat again. "And these others--four of them--are they just the same?" he demanded sharply. "Dash it, how should I know? I suppose so," I answered indifferently. And I closed my eyes and leaned back, feeling a bit--just a bit--weary. Somehow, Billings is always so exhausting when he gets started on something. "Oh, cut it out, old chap," I protested, drowsy-like. "I will," I heard him say. Then I guess I must have dropped off a bit, for the next thing I knew he was shaking me. "Dicky! Dicky! Say, look here! _Look_, I tell you!" I did look, and--well, I was jolly vexed, that's all. "Oh, I say now!" I spoke severely--just that way, you know. I went on, remonstrating: "Devilish silly joke, if you ask me. You've gone and ruined the thing, Billings! Flashy buttons like that, you know--too tawdry, too cheap." "_Cheap!_" He almost shouted it. Then he leaned over the back of the leather chair and pounded his fat head against the cushions, writhing his big bulk from side to side. "Quite impossible," I said firmly. "Not _en regle_ at all, you know!" And I fixed my glass and stared gloomily at the things. The five shiny buttons just lay there against the delicate silk like so many fiery crimson cherries. And they reminded me of something--something--what the deuce was it? Something devilish familiar, whatever it was. And then of a sudden I had it!