"Er-is Colonel Luscombe-?"

The woman in the violet hat was at the desk. Miss Gorringe smiled in a welcoming manner and a page, who had been standing at the ready, was immediately dispatched but had no need to fulfil his errand, as Colonel Luscombe himself entered the lounge at that moment and came quickly across to the desk.

"How do you do, Mrs. Carpenter." He shook hands politely, then turned to the girl. "My dear Elvira." He took both her hands affectionately in his. "Well, well, this is nice. Splendid-splendid. Come and let's sit down." He led them to chairs, established them. "Well, well," he repeated, "this is nice."

The effort he made was somewhat palpable as was his lack of ease. He could hardly go on saying how nice this was. The two ladies were not very helpful. Elvira smiled very sweetly. Mrs. Carpenter gave a meaningless little laugh, and smoothed her gloves.

"A good journey, eh?"

"Yes, thank you," said Elvira.

"No fog. Nothing like that?"

"Oh no."

"Our flight was five minutes ahead of time," said Mrs. Carpenter.

"Yes, yes. Good, very good." He took a pull upon himself. "I hope this place will be all right for you?"

"Oh, I'm sure it's very nice," said Mrs. Carpenter warmly, glancing round her. "Very comfortable."

"Rather old-fashioned, I'm afraid," said the colonel apologetically. "Rather a lot of old fogies. No-er- dancing, anything like that."

"No, I suppose not," agreed Elvira.

She glanced round in an expressionless manner. It certainly seemed impossible to connect Bertram's with dancing.