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 Mr. Benton tacked towards the door, where he paused, swaying.

"Disgraceful," he remarked solemnly. "Rising generation no reshpect for elders and bettersh! Teach 'em lesson, Lakington. Do 'em all good. One—two—three, all ranged in a—in a row. Do 'em good" His voice tailed off, and, after a valiant attempt to lean against a door which was not there, he collapsed gracefully in a heap on the floor.

"You vile hound," said Phyllis, turning like a young tigress on Lakington. "It's your doing entirely, that he's in that condition."

But Lakington merely laughed.

"When we're married," he answered lightly, "we'll put him into a really good home for inebriates."

"Married!" she whispered tensely. "Married! Why, you loathsome reptile, I'd kill myself before I married you."

"An excellent curtain," remarked Lakington suavely, "for the third act of a melodrama. Doubtless we can elaborate it later. In the meantime, however"—he glanced at his watch—"time presses. And I don't want to go without telling you a little about the programme, Captain Drummond. Unfortunately both Mr. Peterson and I have to leave you for to-night; but we shall be returning to-morrow morning—or, at anyrate, I shall. You will be left in charge of Heinrich—you remember the filthy Boche?—with whom you had words the other night. As you may expect, he entertains feelings of great friendship and affection for you, so you should not lack for any bodily comforts; such as may be possible in your