She pulled away her hand. "Oh, please don't tease me," she said. "You can't imagine how funny I feel about it all." She paused. "If we hadn't met Uncle Philip yesterday, I believe I should have begun to think the whole thing was a dream." "Perhaps it is," said Tony. "Personally I shouldn't be a bit surprised if I woke up and found Spalding standing by my bed with a cup of tea." "It doesn't matter really anyway," said Isabel, "because we are all dreaming the same thing, aren't we? You and I and Bugg, and--and your cousin Mr. Guy." "Guy certainly is," answered Tony. "You have made a positively devastating conquest of poor Guy. How on earth did you manage to do it?" Isabel opened her amber eyes. "I don't know," she said innocently. "He was very nice and kind. I only talked to him and smiled at him." "Ah, that accounts for it," said Tony solemnly. He put his hat down and seated himself on the sofa. "You really ought to be more careful," he added. "It isn't fair to go about bewitching respectable secretaries. You never know what they may turn into." "Have you told him?" asked Isabel. "Everything," said Tony. "He is yearning to plunge into the fray and re-seat you on the throne of Livadia. I left him practising sword exercises in the hall." Isabel laughed, and opening the bag that was lying on the table beside her took out a little silver cigarette case, which she offered to Tony. "Do have one," she said. "I bought it yesterday afternoon out of the money you gave me. It was very extravagant, but I love shopping. You see I have not been allowed to do any in London." Tony, who never smoked anything but Virginian tobacco, helped himself bravely to a gold tipped product of the Turkish Empire, and lit it with apparent zest. "All the truest pleasure in life comes from doing things one hasn't been allowed to do," he observed. "To enjoy anything properly one ought to go in for a long course of self-denial first." "I--I suppose you're right," said Isabel doubtfully, "but it's rather difficult, isn't it?" "I should think it was," said Tony. "I have never tried it myself." He felt in his pocket for a moment, and then pulled out a cheque book, which bore the stamped address of the same Hampstead bank at which he kept his own account. "This is yours, Isabel," he said handing it across to her. "I have paid the money I got for the brooch into your account, so you can go on shopping as long and fiercely as you like. Do you know how to draw a cheque?" Isabel nodded. "Oh, yes," she said. "You just fill it in and write your name at the bottom, and then they give you the money. It's quite easy, isn't it." "Quite," said Tony. "All real miracles are." Isabel slipped away the cheque book into her bag. Then she looked at Tony with that half childish and wholly delightful smile of hers.