ANGEL PAVEMENT

were a lonely, friendly pair, who obviously did not know
what on earth to do to pass the time, so that this was
for them an occasion of some importance, to be looked
forward to, to be referred to, to be enjoyed to the last
syllable of small talk.

They were now all shouting at one another, after the
fashion of hosts and guests in Barkficlcl Gardens and
elsewhere.

"Found your way here all right then?" Mr. Dersing-
ham bellowed to Mr. Golspie.

"Came in a taxi/' Mr. Golspie boomed over his cock-
tail.

"That's the best way if you're going to a strange
house in London, isn't it?" Mr. Pearson shouted. "We
always do it when we can afford it. Tee-tee-tee-tee-tee."
"And how's the little darling to-night?1' Mrs, Pearson
inquired at the top of her voice, affectionately maternal
as usual.

"Oh, we took the infant's temperature, and it was
normal. He's all right/' Mrs. Dersingham screamed in
reply, elaborately unmaternal as usual.

'Tin so glad, so glad/' And as she said it, Mrs.
Pearson looked all beaming and moist. "I was so afraid
there might be something really wrong with the dear
kiddy. I was telling Walter that you thought it might
be a chill. I'm so glad it wasn't, my clear. You can't be
too careful with them, can you?"

'This Russian business looks pretty queer, doesn't
it?" Mr. Dersingham shouted,

"Very queer. What do you make of it?" Mr. Pearson
shouted in reply. He made nothing of it himself yet,
because the evening paper had not told him what to
make of it and he had heard nobody's opinion yet. On