“Oh, Monty,” Nora cried, “how lovely! Was it something for me? Don’t scowl when I ask a perfectly reasonable question.” “It wasn’t,” Monty said wretchedly. He had in his joy at meeting her forgotten all about smuggling and now the whole thing loomed up again. “I’ve got half Long Island in my eyes, and if you don’t mind, Alice, I’ll go and wash up.” “And you won’t tell me anything about your crime?” Nora pouted. “Meet me in the Pagoda in five minutes,” he whispered, “and I will. It’s mighty nice to see a pretty girl again who can talk American.” “As if men cared what girls say,” she observed sagely. “It’s the way they look that counts.” When Monty was gone she strolled back to where Alice was sitting. “Did you have a good trip?” she demanded. “Bully,” Alice answered her. “Steven Denby’s most attractive and mysterious.” “Denby!” Harrington repeated. “Why, I’d clean forgotten about Denby. Where is he?” “The limousine was so full of Monty and me and my hand-baggage that we sent him on in the other car. He had to send some telegrams, so he didn’t overtake us till we were this side of Jamaica, where they promptly had a blow-out. He won’t be long.” “What Mr. Denby is he?” Nora asked with interest. “Yes,” Michael asked, “do I know him? I don’t think I ever heard of him.” “Nor did I,” his wife told him. “Perhaps that’s what makes him so mysterious.” “Then why on earth have him down here?” her husband asked mildly. “Because Monty’s devoted to him. They were at school together. And also, Michael dear, because I like him and you’ll like him. Even if I am married, love has not made me blind to other charming men.” “But, shall I like him?” Nora wanted to know. “I did the minute I met him,” Alice confessed. “He has a sort of ’come hither’ in his eyes and the kind of hair I always want to run my hand through. You will, too, Nora.” “But you see I’m not a married woman,” Nora retorted, “so I mayn’t have your privileges.” Alice laughed. “Don’t be absurd. I haven’t done it yet--but I may.” “I don’t doubt it in the least,” said Michael, contentedly caressing her hand. “He has such an air,” Mrs. Harrington explained, “sort of secret and wicked. He might be a murderer or something fascinating like that.” “Splendid fellow for a week-end,” her husband commented. She looked at her watch. “I’d no idea it was so late. I must dress.” “All right,” Nora agreed. “Let’s see what’s become of Ethel.” “Just a minute, Alice,” her husband called as she was mounting the broad stairway that led from the hall. “Run along, Nora,” Alice said, “I’ll be up in a minute.” “I’ll go and wait for Monty,” the girl returned. “I think you’re going to be lectured.” She sauntered out of the French windows toward the Pagoda. “Well,” said Alice smiling, “what is it?” “I just wanted to tell you how mighty glad I was to see you,” he confessed. “And, Mikey dear,” she said simply, “I’m mighty glad to see you.” “Are you really?” he demanded. “You’re not missing Paris?”