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 They both protested that she had done noth- ing of the kind. She smiled at that swift and emphatic denial, but before taking leave flung a comprehensive glance upon the table.

“I wonder if I have forgotten anything?’

“Nothing,” Andromeda assured her.

“If you should want anything more——” she began.

“T will come for it,” said Perseus.

Andromeda poured out the tea. The teapot was a flowered monstrosity, evidently the land- lady’s best; the cups were to match. Androm- eda remembered that on the last occasion tea had been served from a brown earthenware pot with a broken spout.

“What have you been doing?” she asked.

“Buying grace, my dear Andromeda. Bread and butter first, and cress?”

“Tf you please.”

He helped her to a slice, and selected what he thought the greenest and crispest of the cress. It was all deliciously fresh and crisp, but rare birds must have the best of seed.

No sound save that of the inarticulate bab- bling of nature reached them. There in that old-world garden they seemed shut away from