"No, sire," quoted Travis, trying not to laugh, "it is a
revolution."



Chapter III


Although Monday was practically a holiday for the Sunday-
supplement staff of "The Times," Condy Rivers made a point to get
down to the office betimes the next morning. There were reasons
why a certain article descriptive of a great whaleback steamer
taking on grain for famine-stricken India should be written that
day, and Rivers wanted his afternoon free in order to go to Laurie
Flagg's coming-out tea.

But as he came into his room at "The Times" office, which he
shared with the exchange and sporting editors, and settled himself
at his desk, he suddenly remembered that, under the new order of
things, he need not expect to see Travis at the Flaggs'.

"Well," he muttered, "maybe it doesn't make so much difference,
after all. She was a corking fine girl, but--might as well admit
it--the play is played out. Of course, I don't love her--any more
whan she loves me. I'll see less and less of her now. It's
inevitable, and after a while we'll hardly even meet. In a way,
it's a pity; but, of course, one has to be sensible about these
things....Well, this whaleback now."

He rang up the Chamber of Commerce, and found out that the "City