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 in a dream, for she had dazzled him with her smile.

“T have kept your room on,” said Vermont. “You must forage round for your own grub.”

“Yes, sir. Shall you want me any more to- night?”

“Not to-night, John. I will look you up at the garage in the morning.”

Smales backed towards the door and took his departure, his eyes glued to Andromeda’s face.

“Well?” inquired Perseus.

“He’s a dear fellow,” she said. “He has lovely eyes—just like a sheep’s.”

Perseus roared. “Andromeda, you have conquered both master and man.”

“T told you we should be good friends,” she said.

J. Smales, in the meantime, was slowly groping his way downstairs, a succession of strange thoughts beating their way with dif- ficulty through his slow brain. Expecting to find the “guvnor’ in an evil humour on account of the delay, he had looked with some trepida- tion to a bad quarter of an hour. Therefore, his pleasure was not greater than his surprise