Somehow, for all his height and finish, in spite of his uniform and his big car and his obvious importance, he reminded her of Simpkins. (“Lola, I love you.”) The same emotion was in the voice, the same desire in the eyes. What _was_ there in her that made her do this thing to men,—while the one man was unattainable, unapproachable? It was a difficult world. “I’m very sorry,” she said. “I had to go away that night. But I was just on the verge of thinking about you again. You can’t think how glad I am to see you.” Still holding her hand as though he would never let her escape, Chalfont mastered his voice. “You little lovely de Brézé,” he said, not choosing his words. “You strange little bird. I’ve caught you again and I’ve a damned good mind to clip your wings and put you in a cage.” And Lola laughed. “I’ve always been a canary,” she said, “and some day you may find me in a cage.” But she didn’t add, “not your cage, however golden.” Fallaray’s was the only cage and if that were made of bits of stick it would be golden to her. “Well, you’re back in town. That’s the chief thing. Get into my car and I’ll drive you home and let’s do something to-night. Let’s dine at the Savoy or the Carlton. I don’t care. Or don’t let’s dine. Anything you like, so long as you’re with me. I’ve got to go along to the War Office now, but I have my evening off, like any factory hand.” And he drew her towards the car, which was waiting by the curb. “You can drive me as far as Marble Arch,” said Lola. “I must leave you there because I want to buy something in Bond Street.” “All right, Bond Street then. I want to buy something there too.” He helped her in and said to his man, “Masterman’s, quick.” The scout master who had drawn his company up against the railings gave a command as Chalfont helped Lola in. The boys presented arms and Chalfont returned their salute with extreme gravity. “The future strike-breakers of the country,” he said. “The best institution we’ve got.—How well you look. Don’t you think you might have sent me a line? I felt like a man in a parachute dropping from twenty-two thousand feet in the dark when I found that you had left me. It was rather a rotten trick of yours.”