succeeded one another. He was conscious of a desire to get away to some wind-swept moor where he could think things out for himself. A few hours ago Lola had seemed to him as far away as the stars; now owing to one of fate's strangest freaks, she was his. He felt as a navvy might feel on having thrust into his arms the crown jewels of England. What would he do? Probably stand and stare at them in open-mouthed bewilderment. Perhaps He caught Lola's eye upon him.
"It's no good, Rain-Girl," he said, "I can't realise it."
"Realise what?" she questioned.
"It, everything. This is not a real taxi," he continued. "You are not a real Rain-Girl. I am not a real I. I'm just like the navvy."
"Like the what?" she asked with puckered brows. He explained the allusion.
She laughed.
"Is that why you suggested Lady Drewitt?" she asked. "I think she'll be good for you, Jerry."
At that moment the taxi swung in towards the pavement and drew up with a squeak. Beresford got out.
"Tell him to drive to the Belle Vue," said Lola.
"But" he began looking at her in surprise.
"No," she said, shaking her head with decision. "I'm not coming in. Lady Drewitt will bring you back to earth."
For a moment he hesitated, showing the disappointment he felt, then conscious that the door of
