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 mockery in his tone. "Of course it can not possibly be that your impassioned wooing failed to stir the depths of Ermyntrude's being."

"It—is—the—natural—perfidy—of—women—perfidy—for—perfidy's—sake!" bellowed Hilary Vance emphasizing each word by slapping his right hand down on his left.

"I see. Ermyntrude has flown in the face of her adoration?" said Mr. James in dispassionate inquiry. "Perfidy—for—perfidy's—sake!" repeated Hilary Vance with the same convincing smacks and in the same convincing bellow.

"Well, well, you ought to know," said Mr. James, placably dismissing the psychological issue. "But let us delve more deeply into this mine of information we have discovered just in the nick of time. Tell us all you know about the fair Ermyntrude and her Alf, Pollyooly."

Pollyooly told them at length of the interview between the lovers.

Hilary Vance bellowed, "Monstrous treachery! Monstrous!"

Mr. James said, "Now, I'm in charge of this