"No, she can't!" Hand over the telephone transmission, Selwyn turned
to me. "They've got no business mixing you up in this. You'll be
blamed for the whole thing. I'm going to tell him to take her back
to the Melbourne. They can make another try some other time. Tom
must be crazy!"

"Most people in love are. You've never been desperate." I laughed
and took the receiver from him. "Madeleine's courage will be gone
after tonight and Tom's afraid to risk waiting. Get up and let me
talk."

Over the telephone I could hear Madeleine crying and I told Tom to
bring her down. Her two-penny worth of nerve and dash had given out
and she was frightened. Incoherently I was told by Tom that
Madeleine was being persecuted, and he wouldn't stand for it any
longer, and the only thing for them to do was to get married. Hadn't
it been for a durned tire--"

"Come on down." I heard a little cry. "And hurry. It's pretty
late."

Mrs. Mundy, who had been told of their coming, opened the door for
them in dressing-gown and slippers, and piloted them up-stairs and
into my sitting-room, where Madeleine, at sight of Selwyn, burst into
tears and buried her face on my shoulder. But the ten minutes were
not entirely lost which passed before we understood why the venture
had been decided upon at this particular time, and how hard luck had
prevented its fulfilment. Tears are effective. Selwyn weakened as
rapidly as I could have wished.