extraordinary way. "What on earth are you insinuating?"

No! It was inconceivable that this pulsating girl perched on the sofa
should be the mother of the mature and independent Charles.

"Charlie's _staying_ at the Grand Babylon Hotel," said Eve, as though
she were saying that Charlie had forged a cheque or blown up the
Cenotaph.

Even the imperturbable man of the world in front of her momentarily
blenched at the news.

"More fool him!" observed Mr. Prohack.

"Yes, and he's got a bedroom and a private sitting-room and a bathroom,
and a room for a secretary--"

"Hence a secretary," Mr. Prohack put in.

"Yes, and a secretary. And he dictates things to the secretary all the
time, and the telephone's always going,--yes, even at this time of
night. He must be spending enormous sums. So of course I hurried back to
tell you."

"You did quite right, my pet," said Mr. Prohack. "A good wife should
share these tit-bits with her husband at the earliest possible moment."

He was really very like what in his more conventional moments he would
have said a woman was like. If Eve had taken the affair lightly he would
without doubt have remonstrated, explaining that such an affair ought by