"My dear Tony, she's a professional. Of course she wasn't."

Antony laughed again.

"A great success, was it?"

"Oh, rather!"

"I'm a fool, and a damned fool," Antony announced solemnly. "And
a damned fool," he said again under his breath, as he led Bill
away from the poster, and out of the yard into the road. "And a
damned fool. Even now--" He broke off and then asked suddenly,
"Did Mark ever have much trouble with his teeth?"

"He went to his dentist a good deal. But what on earth--"

Antony laughed a third time.

"What luck!" he chuckled. "But how do you know?"

"We go to the same man; Mark recommended him to me. Cartwright,
in Wimpole Street."

"Cartwright in Wimpole Street," repeated Antony thoughtfully.
"Yes, I can remember that. Cartwright in Wimpole Street. Did
Cayley go to him too, by any chance?"

"I expect so. Oh, yes, I know he did. But what on earth--"