At last she made an abrupt movement. “It’s getting dark. What can the time be? I must go home.” She rose. “Before I go,” she said, “we must settle up about Mrs. Fontaine.” “I suppose we must,” groaned Huckaby. “All I ask you is to spare her as much as you can.” “We must think first of Quixtus,” she replied, shortly. “What we’ve got to do for him is to build up his faith in humanity again—not to give the little he has left another knockdown blow. See?” Huckaby raised his head with swift hope. “Do you mean that he must not know about her?” “Or about you. That’s what I mean.” “God bless you!” gasped Huckaby. “All the same, this precious marriage project has got to be put a stop to—for ever and ever, amen. I hope you realise that thoroughly.” Huckaby could not meet her keen eyes. He hung his head. “I suppose you mean me to break it gently to her that—that the game is up.” “I don’t mean anything of the kind,” she snapped. “Now look here. Pay strict attention. If you obey me implicitly and scrupulously, I’ll still see whether I can’t be your friend—and I can be a good friend; but if you don’t, God help you! I’ve given a pledge of secrecy to my informant this afternoon. Of course I’ve broken it, like a woman. So you’ve got to keep it for me. See? You’re not to let those two blackguards suffer in any way on my account. Promise.” “I promise,” said Huckaby. “Then you’re not to breathe a single syllable to Mrs. Fontaine. Best keep out of her way. Leave me to deal with her. I’ll let her down gently, I’ll give you my word on it. Is that a bargain?” “Yes,” said Huckaby. She put out her hand frankly. “Good-bye.” He accompanied her to the front door. “Can I get you a taxi?” “Lord, no. When I’m a lady you can. I’ll walk till I find one.” Clementina sped to Romney Place with shining eyes, and a smile lurking at the corners of her lips. The first thing she did on arrival was to rush down to the telephone. “Is that you, Ephraim?” “Yes,” came the answer. “I’ve changed my mind, and I’m coming to your dinner-party.” “Delighted, my dear Clementina.” “Good-bye.” She rang off, and rushed upstairs to make a fool of herself over Sheila, who, already put to bed, lay awake in anticipation of Clementina’s good-night cuddle. “When you go to stay with your uncle, I wonder whether he’ll spoil you like this.” “You’ll come too,” said Sheila, sedately, “and then you can go on spoiling me.” “Lord preserve us!” cried Clementina. “What a scandal in Russell Square!”