"Yes, _there's_ somebody you can always rely on!" he enthused under his changing mood. "Good thing in this blankety world there's _somebody_ you can rely on--among women, I mean. There's a girl with a purpose in life--yes, sir! Never dances, plays bridge, nor uses slang--no, sir! And what's more, in this cursed age, she's one woman who can go through life and say she never touched a cigarette or a cocktail." "Of course--of course!" I agreed soothingly. By Jove, it was a devilish sight better to have him talk this way about her. I wouldn't antagonize anything he might say now. And I had turned his mind just by a simple hint--the power of suggestion, you know. Just as I had myself forgotten I was sleepy. "Of course, you never have met my sister, have you?" he puffed. "I mean the one that's been up at Radcliffe." "Oh, _never_!" I said promptly. "You will in the morning," said Billings, flicking his ash. "Not much to look at--I mean not what you would call handsome--" I interrupted. "Oh, but I say," I exclaimed unguardedly, "how can you say that? I think she's just beautiful." "Eh?" He stared so hard I was afraid I had got his mind off again. "Thought you said you had never met her." "No, no, I never did," I stammered. "Mistake, you know." He went on musingly: "But I understand that her room-mate--who has come home with her, by the way--is a peach. English girl, you know. They tell me Francis is crazy about her beauty." Dashed if I could see how she could be, for, by Jove, I had seen her myself. It was the frump! Peach? She was a _fright_! Here Billings' eyes hung on the ceiling as though he would bore through it. "Say, do you know"--he dropped his voice, still looking up--"I hope the old gazabe up there won't get wise to those rubies. Awfully careless of us--forgot all about them. By George, I've half a mind to go up there and get the pajamas back." "Oh, dash it, no!" I protested, for I was getting sleepy again. "It's the silk the old fellow was interested in; he wants to examine it--try some experiments--something. He'll never think of the jolly rubies, you know." Billings looked at me oddly. "That's so," he agreed. "Still, I know I won't sleep, thinking about those rubies." Then he looked up at the ceiling again and muttered: "Wonder if the old boy _will_ have any visitors to-night?" I yawned. I knew it wasn't likely--not with _him_! Billings rose. "Well, I'll get along over to the club, old chap. Now mind, the car will call for you about nine. Then you are to pick me up--that is, unless I should come over here. And, oh, say, Dicky!" He turned back from the door where Jenkins waited with his hat and cane. "Speaking of pajamas--er--what do you think of black ones--eh?" By Jove, I got red--could just feel it, you know! "Ever see a suit of black silk pajamas?" Billings chuckled. Now for it! "I--I--never did," I managed to get out.