turned it into an occasion for profane personal display.

Mrs. Eliott's dinner-party had not saved him; on the contrary, he had
saved the dinner-party.




CHAPTER VIII


Anne was right. Though Majendie was, as he expressed it, "up to her
designs upon his unhappy soul," he remained unconscious of the part to be
played by Mrs. Eliott and her circle in the scheme of his salvation. From
his observation of the aristocracy of Thurston Square, it would never
have occurred to him that they were people who could count, whichever way
you looked at them.

Meanwhile he was a little disturbed by his own appearance as a heavenward
pilgrim. He was not sure that he had not gone a little too far that way,
and he felt that it was a shame to allow Anne to take him seriously.

He confided his scruples to Edith.

"Poor dear," he said, "it's quite pathetic. You know, she thinks she's
saving me."

"And do you mind being saved?"

"Well, no, I don't mind a little of it. But the question is, how long I