Clem Sypher burst into a roar of laughter and clapped Septimus on the
shoulder.

"Didn't I tell you?" he cried delightedly. "Didn't I tell you it's good for
everything? What cream could give you such a polish? By Jove! You deserve
to be on the free list for life. You've given me a line for an ad. 'If your
skin is all right, try it on your boots.' By George! I'll use it. This is a
man with ideas, Mrs. Middlemist. We must encourage him."

"Mr. Dix is an inventor," said Zora. She liked Sypher for laughing. It made
him human. It was therefore with a touch of kindly feeling that she thanked
him for the roses.

"I wanted to make them blush at the sight of your complexion after the
cure," said he.

It was a compliment, and Zora frowned; but it was a professional
compliment--so she smiled. Besides, the day was perfect, and Zora not only
had not a care in the wide world, but was conscious of a becoming hat. She
could not help smiling pleasantly on the world.

An empty motor car entered the square, and drew up near by. The chauffeur
touched his cap.

"I'll run you both over to Nice," said Clem Sypher. "I have to meet my
agent there and put the fear of God into him. I shan't be long. My methods
are quick. And I'll run you back again. Don't say no."

There was the car--a luxurious 40 h.p. machine, upholstered in green; there