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70 come to the Witte?" Van der Welcke urged, in imploring tones.

"My dear Hans, what would you have me do at the Witte?"

"So you're going home."

"Yes, I'm going home, but I'll walk a bit of the way with you."

And, wishing to appear polite, he bowed vaguely to Constance, but said nothing more.

It was a delightful winter evening, with a sharp frost and a sky full of twinkling stars.

"I love walking," said Constance. "When I've heard anything fine—music, a play, or a speech like to-night's—I would much rather walk than rattle home in a cab."

"My dear fellow!" cried Van der Welcke, still bubbling over with enthusiasm. "You've converted me! I believe in it, I believe in that Peace of yours!"

Brauws gave a sudden bellow.

"There, now the chap's laughing at me again!" said Van der Welcke, in an injured tone.

"Well," said Brauws, "shall I come and fetch you in a motor to-morrow, to reward you?"

They all laughed this time.

"Have you got one?" cried Van der Welcke, delightedly.

"No, but I can hire one," said Brauws. "And then you can drive."