There was a moment's pause; a polite but embarrassed smile appeared on the shopman's face; an altogether different explanation had for the moment suggested itself. 'We'll pay now and take them with us,' said Peggy. 'Oh, certainly, if you prefer, madame,' murmured the shopman gratefully. He engaged upon figures. Peggy jumped down from her chair and ranged about the shop, inspecting tiaras at impossible prices. She did not come back for three or four minutes. Airey was waiting for her, the small boxes in his hand. She darted out of the shop and gave the cabman another direction. Airey followed her with a slowness that seemed deliberate. She said nothing till they stopped again; then she observed, just as she got out of the cab, 'This is the best place for pearls.' Airey was a connoisseur of pearls, or so it seemed. He awoke to an extraordinary interest in them; Peggy and he actually quarrelled over the relative merits of a couple of strings. The shopman arbitrated in favour of the more highly priced; it had been Airey's choice, and he was ungracefully exultant. 'I don't like shopping with you,' declared Peggy pettishly. 'Anything for a quiet life!' sighed Airey. 'We'll have them both.' A quick suspicion shot into her eyes. 'No, no, no,' she whispered imperatively. 'Why not?' 'It would just spoil it all. Don't spoil it, Airey!' He yielded. Here again the shopman had several theories, but no conviction as to the situation. 'Now we might lunch,' Peggy suggested. 'It's very tiring work, isn't it?' At lunch Airey was positively cantankerous. Nothing in the _table d'hôte_ meal satisfied him; the place had to be ransacked for recondite dainties. As for wine, he tried three brands before he would drink, and then did not pretend to be satisfied. The cigar he lit afterwards was an ostentatious gold-wrapped monster. 'We procure them especially for the Baron von Plutopluter,' the waiter informed him significantly. 'I'll put half a dozen in my pocket,' said Airey. Peggy eyed the cigar apprehensively. 'Will that take very long?' she asked. 'We've lots more to do, you know.' 'What more is there to do?' he inquired amiably. 'Well, there's a good deal left still, you know,' she murmured in a rather embarrassed way. 'By Jove, so there is,' he agreed. 'But I don't quite see----' Certainly Peggy was a little troubled; her confidence seemed to fail her rather; she appeared to contemplate a new and difficult enterprise. 'There isn't a bit too much if--if we do the proper thing,' she said. She looked at him--it might be said she looked over him--with a significant gaze. He glanced down at his coat: 'Oh, nonsense! There's no fun in that,' he objected. 'It's quite half the whole thing,' she insisted. There were signs of rebellion about him; he fussed and fidgeted, hardly doing justice to the Baron von Plutopluter's taste in cigars. 'I shall look such an ass,' he grumbled at last.