' You're getting on, Bertie,' said she; ' that interview shows you have struck the right note. And where have you been this afternoon?'
' Like Satan, walking up and down the earth,' said he. ' I went by an overhead railway and an underground railway. There are swing gates into the stations of the overhead railway. As I passed in, I naturally held the gate for the next man, so as not to let it bang in his face. He did not take it from me, but passed through, leaving me still holding it. I might have stood there all day, and they would have all passed through. Then I learned better, and let it slam in other people's faces. It saves time. Somehow I thought the incident was characteristic of the country.'
Sybil lit a cigarette.
' I like it,' she said. ' The air, or the people, or something, makes me feel alert. Now, when I feel alert in England it is mere waste of energy. There is nothing to expend one's alertness on; besides, one is out of tone. But here, somehow, it is suitable. I like the utter hideousness of it, too. Look from that window at the line of houses. They are like a row of jagged, broken teeth. Well, it is no worse than Park Lane, and, somehow, there is an efficiency about them here. One is ninety-five stories high for a definite reason—because land is valuable; the next is three stories high because it belongs to a millionaire who doesn't want to walk upstairs. By the way, Mrs. Palmer came in while you were out. We are going to dine with her this evening, and go to Mrs. Emsworth's first night.'
She looked at him rather closely as she said this.
' That will be charming,' he said quite naturally. ' And to-morrow we go down to Mrs. Palmer's on Long Island, don't we?'
' Yes. Really, Bertie, their idea of hospitality is very amazing. She came up here to-day to this blazing grid-
