and Kilburn Priory capacity. To send them back would be ungracious, seeing
that he had saved her a hundred francs and had cured her imaginary sunburn.
She took up the card and laughed. It was like him to name his residence
"The Kurhaus." She would never know him in his private capacity, for the
simple reason that he hadn't one. The roses were an advertisement. So
Turner unpacked the basket, and while Zora was putting the roses into water
she wondered whether Mr. Sypher's house was decorated with pictorial
advertisements of the cure instead of pictures. Her woman's instinct,
however, caused the reflection that the roses must have cost more than all
the boxes of the cure she could buy in a lifetime.

Septimus was dutifully waiting for her in the hall. She noted that he was
more spruce than usual, in a new gray cashmere suit, and that his brown
boots shone dazzlingly, like agates. They went out together, and the first
person who met their eyes was the Friend of Humanity sunning himself in the
square and feeding the pigeons with bread crumbs from a paper bag. As soon
as he saw Zora he emptied his bag and crossed over.

"Good morning, Mrs. Middlemist. Good morning, Mr. Dix. Used the cure? I
see you have, Mrs. Middlemist. Isn't it wonderful? If you'd only go about
Monte Carlo with an inscription 'Try Sypher's Cure!' What an advertisement!
I'd have you one done in diamonds! And how did you find it, Mr. Dix?"

"I--oh!" murmured Septimus. "I forgot about it last night--and this morning
I found I hadn't any brown boot polish--I--"

"Used the cure?" cried Zora, aghast.

"Yes," said Septimus, timidly. "It's rather good," and he regarded his
dazzling boots.