seemed to be thinking his own private thoughts. They had gone some distance before either spoke.

“Who is she, Jimmy?” asked Mifflin.

Jimmy came out of his thoughts with a start.

“What’s that?”

“Who is she?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do! The sea air. Who is she?”

“I don’t know,” said Jimmy simply.

“You don’t know? Well, what’s her name?”

“I don’t know.”

“Doesn’t the Mauretania still print a passenger list?”

“She does.”

“And you couldn’t find out her name in five days?”

“No.”

“And that’s the man who thinks he can burgle a house!” said Mifflin despairingly.

They had arrived now at the building on the second floor of which was Jimmy’s flat.

“Coming in?” said Jimmy.

“Well, I was rather thinking of pushing on as far as the park. I tell you, I feel all on wires.”

“Come in and smoke a cigar. You’ve got all night before you if you want to do Marathons. I haven’t seen you for a couple of months. I want you to tell me all the news.”

“There isn’t any. Nothing happens in New York. The papers say things do, but they don’t. However, I’ll come in. It seems to me that 

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