long time, and then she turned to me. Her eyes shone queerly.     

       'What does this mean, Bertie?'     

       She spoke quite quietly, but her voice shook a bit.     

       'Gussie went into the business,' I said, 'because the girl's father wouldn't let him marry her unless he did. If you feel up to it perhaps you wouldn't mind tottering round to One Hundred and Thirty-third Street and having a chat with him. He's an old boy with eyebrows, and he's Exhibit C on my list. When I've put you in touch with him I rather fancy my share of the business is concluded, and it's up to you.'     

       The Danbys lived in one of those big apartments uptown which look as if they cost the earth and really cost about half as much as a hall-room down in the forties. We were shown into the sitting-room, and presently old Danby came in.     

       'Good afternoon, Mr Danby,' I began.     

       I had got as far as that when there was a kind of gasping cry at my elbow.     

       'Joe!' cried Aunt Julia, and staggered against the sofa.     

       For a moment old Danby stared at her, and then his mouth fell open and his eyebrows shot up like rockets.     

       'Julie!'     

       And then they had got hold of each other's hands and were shaking them till I wondered their arms didn't come unscrewed.     

       I'm not equal to this sort of thing at such short notice. The change in Aunt Julia made me feel quite dizzy. She had shed her grande-dame manner completely, and was blushing and smiling. I don't like to say such things of any aunt of mine, or I would go further and put it on record that she was giggling. And old Danby, who usually looked like a cross between a Roman emperor and Napoleon Bonaparte in a bad temper, was behaving like a small boy.     

       'Joe!'     

       'Julie!'     

       'Dear old Joe! Fancy meeting you again!'     

       'Wherever have you come from, Julie?'     

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