"Why did I do what?"
"Shake yourself like—like"
"A little devil had settled on my shoulder and was whispering unpleasant things into my ear," he explained with a smile.
"You are funny." She looked at him appraisingly. "You are funnier than any one I have ever known."
"Pour s'amuse la reine," he smiled.
"I wish I understood you," she said, still regarding him with gravely intent eyes.
"And you think I should wear better understood?" he queried.
"You're not like"
"The other Thirty-Nine Articles. Grace à Dieu!" he laughed.
"I can see it's no use," she said with a sigh. "You won't be serious."
"I dare not."
The tone rather than the words caused her to look at him quickly; but he was smiling.
The train was now rushing into bricks and mortar. To Beresford the greyness of the unending lines seemed reflected in his own thoughts. It was getting very near the end—the end with a capital "E." Still it had been wonderful, and he was not going to complain.
Nothing more was said until they drew into Victoria Station, and then only the commonplaces about luggage and a taxi. He secured a porter, retrieved Lola's luggage from the avalanche that was de-
