music-hall artists, callow university men, shady horse-dealers, and
raucous military infants, had an atmosphere of more than meretricious
gaiety. The close of an old year and the birth of a new one touch the
toughest.

The band was working away with a strident brassiness which filled the
room with noise. The women's dresses were a shriek of colour. The
vulgarity of the scene was so immense as to be almost admirable. It was
certainly interesting.

Watching his opportunity, Julian presently drew me aside into the
smoking-room.

"Malim," he said, "has paid you a great compliment."

"Really," I said, rather surprised, for Julian's acquaintance had done
nothing more, to my knowledge, than give me a cigar and a
whiskey-and-soda.

"He's introduced you to his wife."

"Very good of him, I'm sure."

"You don't understand. You see Kit for what she is: a pretty,
good-natured creature bred in the gutter. But Malim--well, he's in the
Foreign Office and is secretary to Sir George Grant."

"Then what in Heaven's name," I cried, "induced him to marry----"

"My dear Jimmy," said Julian, adroitly avoiding the arm of an exuberant