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 "Of course she is," said Phyllis, in astonishment.

"And you're a very good man," said Bobbie, very shy, but firmly resolved to be polite.

"You flatter me," said the old gentleman, taking off his hat with a flourish. "And now am I to tell you what I think of you?"

"Oh, please don't," said Bobbie, hastily.

"Why?" asked the old gentleman.

"I don't exactly know," said Bobbie. "Only—if it's horrid, I don't want you to; and if it's nice, I'd rather you didn't."

The old gentleman laughed.

"Well, then," he said, "I'll only just say that I'm very glad you came to me about this—very glad, indeed. And I shouldn't be surprised if I found out something very soon. I know a great many Russians in London, and every Russian knows his name. Now tell me all about yourselves."

He turned to the others, but there was only one other, and that was Peter. Phyllis had disappeared.

"Tell me all about yourself," said the old gentleman again. And, quite naturally, Peter was stricken dumb.