This proved an admirable arrangement, for he enjoyed all the amenities of a home without always being on top of them. Moreover, as he continued his old practice of dining two or three nights a week at his club, they could when they wished ask other young couples to dinner without having him too as odd man out; and when they had larger parties he was always happy to place the big studio at their disposal.

It had been on Monday, March 7th, that he had briefed Barney Sullivan, and on the following Sunday afternoon he had just settled himself down in the studio to read the papers, when John Fountain came across, put his head in at the door, and said:

'C.B., a young woman has called and is asking to see you. Her name is Mrs. Morden. What about it?'

With a sigh C.B. lowered the paper. He knew that it must be Teddy Morden's widow, and felt that an interview with her would certainly be most painful for them both, the odds being that she had come to upbraid him for sending her husband to his death; but he quickly resigned himself to it.

'All right, John. I'll see her.'

John gave him a wicked grin. 'She's quite an eyeful - a ravishing blonde. Poor old Mumsie. What's it worth to you for me not to lot on to her that you've got yourself a lovely girl-friend?'

C.B. grinned back. 'That's quite enough of that, young feller. Bring her along.'

'O.K. Chief. But my silence will cost you a case of Moet N.V.'

Two minutes later Mrs. Morden stepped across the threshold of C.B.'s spacious book-lined sanctum. From behind her shoulder the irrepressible John winked at C.B. and made the V sign; then he quietly closed the door upon them.