MISS MAT FIELD'S NEW YEAR 4*3

about a Benedictine or a Kummel? What do you say?
Here, look at the list/'

She examined it. What fascinating names they had,
these liqueurs! "I don't know. Shall I? All right then,
I'll have a Green Chartreuse."

Mr, Golspie lit a cigar and then, over the coffee and
liqueurs, answered some questions she asked about his
recent trip abroad, and went rambling on about his
experiences in those Baltic countries and in other places
still more mysterious and romantic to her. As she
listened, feeling very gay and confident inside, his blunt
staccato talk seemed to open a series of little windows
upon a magical world she had always known to be some-
where about, although she had never walked in it her-
self, and his own figure took colour from the blue and
golden lights flashing through these little windows. He
talked in the way she had always felt a man should talk.
He was so tremendously and refreshingly un-Burpen-
fieldish. And he was interested in her; he was not
merely filling in an idle hour; she attracted him, had
attracted him, she felt now, for some time; and—oh!—it
was all amusing and exciting.

"It's quarter to ten," Mr. Golspie suddenly
announced. "What about that dance of yours?"

"Oh, Lord!—I don't know. It's hardly worth it now.
What a nuisance!"

"Like dancing, eh?"

"Adore it."

"All right. You listen to me. I remember now I had
an invitation from one or two of those Anglo-Baltic
chaps; they weren't giving the show, but a friend of
theirs was, and a lot of people I know were going to be
there. Dancing, too. We'll go there, and then you won't