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One morning early in March, when Ann and Mrs. Hill were busy in the showroom, a man entered. Ann, leaving the customer to whom she had been speaking, advanced towards him, and found herself face to face with Gerald Waring.

“I got back last night,” he said, moderating his voice, so that no one else but Ann could hear him, “and I want to see you! We can’t talk here—come out to morning tea with me.”

Ann glanced at Mrs. Hill, and the girl who was trying on hats at the other end of the room.

“You can leave some one in charge,” went on Waring. “I’ll go on to the Imperial and engage a table on the balcony. Come straight upstairs through the lounge. Say in a quarter of an hour’s time.”

“Our talk must be ‘without prejudice,’ as the lawyers say,” said Ann.

“You’ve had some experience of the law lately, I hear.”

Ann flushed, but she met his eyes quite bravely.

“Yes,” she answered. “Did you know about it before . . . before you left Australia?”

He shook his head.

“I heard it last night in the club. Probably an in-