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 look at me. Being a mere bourgeoise she has to be particular whom she knows."

"Then how the devil"

"But when she finds out that I have the entrée to Lady Henry's"

"How did you get the entrée?"

"Just because I didn't seem to want it—as I didn't."

Pat was exasperated, as well as bewildered, and Paul explained. "This afternoon I dropped into the Savoy. The Shrotons were there with some people who were on their way inland to shoot big game. One of the ladies noticed me, and by and by old Henry strolled over. Wouldn't I come and be presented to his wife? So I had to. She asked me a few test questions. Did I shoot? Did I play polo? What did I think of the new American dances? Then somebody wondered: what the orchestra were playing, and I said they had all but given the coup de grâce to Schubert's Unfinished Symphony."

"Unfinished?"

"Yes, it's all right. Don't interrupt. Lady Henry—Cora, as they call her—at this sign of intelligence on my part, felt justified in having picked me up, and said, 'I suppose you are very musical, Mr. Minas; you look musical; do you play the piano?'"

"Do you?"

"Naturally."

"Well, I'm damned!"

"So she asked if I'd play for her some day; she adored music—'really good music.' That's what they all say."

"But whoa your horses. That's a long ways from Markwick's order."

"Not nearly so long as you imagine. You didn't see Cora's eyelids when she said I looked musical."

"Murder!"

They had made their way back to the hotel. Another idea had leapt into Paul's head.