"Come along," she said, "there are roast quails and it would be awful if they got cold, wouldn't it?" 

 Tony gave a slight shudder.  "There are some tragedies," he said, "that one hardly likes to think about." 

 All through lunch, which was daintily served in Molly's pretty, sunny little dining-room, they chatted away in the easy cheerful fashion of two people who have no illusions about each other and are yet the firmest of friends. The lunch itself was excellent, and Claudine waited on them with a graceful skill that lent an additional harmony to its progress. 

 "I think I am in love with your new maid," observed Tony thoughtfully, when she at length left them to their coffee and cigarettes. 

 "I am glad you approve of her," said Molly, "but if you haven't seen her before it only shows how disgustingly you must have treated me. She has been here since Christmas." 

 "I like her face," pursued Tony.  "It's so pure. She looks as if she had been turned out of a convent for being too good." 

 "She isn't good," said Molly.  "Don't you think it." 

 "That only makes her all the more wonderful," said Tony.  "To look good and to be wicked is the ideal combination. You get the benefits of both without any of their drawbacks." 

 "In that case," observed Molly, "I must be dead out of luck. With my red hair and red lips I look desperately wicked, while as a matter of fact I'm quite uninterestingly good—by instinct."  She paused.  "I want to talk to you about my morals, Tony. That has been one of the chief reasons why I asked you to lunch." 

 Tony poured out a glass of liqueur brandy.  "The morals of Molly," he remarked contentedly.  "I can't imagine a more perfect subject for an after-lunch discussion." 

 Molly lit herself a cigarette and passed him across the little silver box.  "It's not so much a discussion as an explanation," she said.  "I want to explain Peter."  She sat back in her chair.  "You see, Tony, you're the only person in the world whose opinion I care a hang for. If it hadn't been for you I don't know what would have happened to me after I ran away from home. You helped me to get on the stage, and I don't want you to think I've turned out an absolute rotter. Oh, I know people have always said horrid things about me, but then they do that about any girl in musical comedy. I 

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