“Chum is very fond of you, Hal. You’ll keep an eye on her, won’t you? Perhaps there is no one else but you who can.” Quick tears shone in Hal’s eyes. “Of course I will… two eyes.. I don’t know that I shall let her out of my sight at all.” Other evening, because Dudley was so often at Holloway, Hal went to dinner with the Three Graces. Dick often fetched her from the office, and they went back together. Now that she had become interested in the East End, they had schemes to talk over, and she and Quin were never weary of discussing odd characters there, and odd histories, and plans for different amusements. Dick joined in a times, but was very busy with his new book. Alymer Hermon had grown strangely quiet. At intervals, for the sake of old times, he and Hal had sparring matches, but if, as was not very usual, he happened to be at home, he was inclined to do little else but lounge and smoke, and watch her while presumably reading a paper. Hal did not notice it particularly. She had many other things on her mind just then, and Alymer only filled a very small corner. She was glad he was progressing so satisfactorily. He was well started up the ladder now, and though he had had no single big chance to distinguish himself once for all, it was generally regarded as merely a matter of time. She fancied she did not meet him so much at Lorraine’s, but as she did not go nearly so often herself, on account of the Holloway visits, she could not really know. But she noticed that Lorraine also was a little different—a little more reserved and likewise quieter. She seemed still to be ailing a good deal, and to have lost interest in her profession. Yet she did not seem unhappy. On the contrary, Hal thought her happier than usual in an undemonstrative, dreamy sort of way. She was interested in the East End social evenings, and on one occasion went herself. She was also interested in Basil Hayward, and motored up with lovely flowers for him; but she talked far less of the theatre, and seemed indisposed to consider a new part. “I want a real long rest this summer,” she had said, “free from rehearsals and everything.” In mid-June Sir Edwin was married, with a great deal of display, and much paragraphing of newspapers. The day before the wedding, Hal received a beautiful gold watch and chain from him. “Do not be angry, and do not send it back,” he wrote. “Keep it and wear it in memory of some one who was known to you only, and who has since died. To me, it is like honouring the memory of my best self if I can persuade you thus to perpetuate it. Good-bye, Little Girl; and God bless you.” Hal kept the watch and wore it, and the only one who demurred was Alymer Hermon. It was spoken of at the Cromwell Road flat one evening, when he was present but taking no part in the conversation. Dick admired it, and she told him it had been given to her recently.