"And he is more wonderful still when he's drunk. And to-night--I feel
it--he will be drunk. I pledge myself that Dick Garstin will be drunk."

"I'm sure it would be a very great privilege to see Mr. Garstin drunk.
But I must go home. Good night, dear Beryl."

"But the little Bolshevik! You must meet the little Bolshevik!" cried
Jennings.

Lady Sellingworth shook her deer-like head, smiling.

"Good night, Mr. Craven."

"But he is going to get you a taxi," said Miss Van Tuyn.

"Yes, and if you will allow me I am going to leave you at your door,"
said Craven, with decision.

A line appeared in Miss Van Tuyn's low forehead, but she only said:

"And then you will come back and join us."

"Thank you," said Craven.

He took off his hat. Miss Van Tuyn gave him a long and eloquent look,
which was really not unlike a Leap Year proposal. Then she entered the
cafe with Jennings. Craven thought at that moment that her back looked
unusually rigid.

A taxi was passing. He held up his hand. It stopped. Lady Sellingworth