"And ask them to play the Sicilian Pastorale, and 'A Mezzanotte,' and
the Barcarola di Sorrento, and _not_ to play 'Funiculi, Funicula.' Do
you mind?"

"Of course not! But do let me--"

"No, no! This is my little treat to Lady Sellingworth. She has never
been here before."

Craven went round to the musicians and carried out his directions. As he
did so he saw adoring looks of comprehension come into their dark
faces, and, turning, he caught a wonderful smile that was meant for
them flickering on the soft lips of Miss Van Tuyn. That smile was as
provocative, as definitely full of the siren quality, as if it had
dawned for the only lover, instead of for three humble Italians,
"hairdressers in the daytime," as Miss Van Tuyn explained to Craven
while she poured out his coffee.

"I often come here," she added. "You're surprised, I can see."

"I must say I am," said Craven. "I thought your beat lay rather in the
direction of the Carlton, the Ritz, and Claridge's."

"You see how little he knows me!" she said, turning to Lady
Sellingworth.

"Beryl does not always tread beaten paths," said Lady Sellingworth to
Craven.

"I hate beaten paths. One meets all the dull people on them, the people