"Oh, that's most interesting," he said. "You will lunch with her
to-morrow! I say, Froelich, you might introduce me. I could turn up after
lunch, you know."

Bobby's face got serious.

"Well, I tell you, Clancey, old chap, as a rule I am quite ready to
introduce my friends to any lady I know, but in this particular case it
is not quite the same. You see, the fact is--the last time I introduced a
friend of mine the result was--well, it was not exactly what I bargained
for."

"What do you mean?" asked Clancey.

"What I mean is that I introduced Alistair Ramsey to her in Paris, with
the result that I have never seen her since until yesterday."

Clancey did not immediately reply, but a curious expression overspread
his face. "Alistair Ramsey," he murmured, and then again, "Alistair
Ramsey, dear me!"

Bobby looked at him wonderingly. Clancey laughed lightly.

"That reminds me," he said. "I inquired about your commission at the War
Office. You know, I suppose, that Alistair Ramsey is private secretary to
Sir Archibald Fellowes. Old Fellowes decides upon all commissions,
and your charming friend, Mr. Ramsey, informed him you were not a fit
person to wear his Majesty's uniform."