"We--ell!" Joyce put her head on one side and pretended to spur her memory. "Some one said Mavis Rawnsley had disappeared. Nothing in that, of course; _you_'ve disappeared before now. Then some one else said she was being held to ransom till her father was converted to the suffrage. That interested me. None of the papers said anything about it; you'd have thought Mr. Rawnsley was making a mystery of it.

However, I wanted to know, so I'm asking the question in the leading article. Perhaps he'll write and tell me. Do you love me enough to give me a match?"

I lit her cigarette and talked to her for her soul's good.

"As I say, my law's pretty rusty," I told her in conclusion, "but you may take it as quite certain that the penalty for abduction is rather severe."

"Brutally," Joyce assented with unabated cheerfulness. "But you've got to catch your criminal before you can imprison him."

"Or her."

"And you can't catch without evidence."

I wandered round the room in search of two cushions. I found only one, but women do not need cushions to the same extent as men.

"That's the most banal remark I've ever heard from you," I told her.

"There never was a criminal yet that didn't think he'd left no traces, never one that didn't think he was equal to the strain of sitting waiting to be arrested. They all end in the same way, get frightened or become reckless----"

"Which am I?"

"Neither as yet. You'll become reckless, because I don't think you know what fear means."

"Reckless! Me reckless! If I have a glass roof put to the editorial room of the _New Militant_, will you climb up and see my moderating influence at work? If it hadn't been for me, we should have been prosecuted over the first number."

"I suppose that's Mrs. Millington?" I hazarded. An echo of her fiery pamphlets and speeches had reached me during the heyday of the arson and sabotage campaign.

"What's in a name?" Joyce asked sweetly.

"Nothing at all. I agree. You tell me there's _some one_ who has to be restrained. I tell you you'll be arrested the day after your restraining influence is withdrawn...."

Joyce bowed her assent.

"And that will happen when you're invalided home from the front."

Joyce bowed again. "Me that never had a day's illness in my life," I heard her murmur.

"It'll be a new experience, and you'll have it very shortly if I know anything of what a woman looks like when she's overworked, over-worried, over-excited. However fit you may be in other ways, you're man's inferior in physical stamina. For the ordinary fatigues of life...."

"But this wasn't!" The interruption came quickly in a tone that had lost its early banter. "Elsie's case comes on at the end of this week.

I've been with her, I didn't want to come to-night, but she made me--so as not to disappoint Dick. It's not very pleasant to sit watching any one going through.... However, don't let's talk about it.

You were giving me good advice. I love good advice. It's cheap...."

"And so very filling? I'll give no more."

"Don't stop, it's a wonderful index. As long as people give me good advice, I know I need never trouble to ask them for anything more."

I weighed the remark rather deliberately.

"You were nearer being spiteful then than I've ever heard you," I said.

"But wasn't it true? The only three people I can depend on not to give me good advice are Elsie, Dick and the Seraph."

"The only three who'll give you anything more?"

"Among the non-politicals. I've got politicals who'd go through fire and water for me," she declared proudly.

"I can believe it. But only those three among the rest?"

"Those three." She sat looking me in the eyes for a moment, then a mischievous smile of commiseration broke over her face. "My friend, you're not suggesting _yourself_?"

"I'm waiting to be asked."

"It would be waste of time. You've not been living your own sinful selfish life all these years for nothing. If a crash ever came--it's kindly meant, but I should have to put you under instruction for six months before I could be certain of you."

"You won't get six months."

"Then it's hardly worth starting, is it? In any case we shall win without needing to call in outside help. What about getting back to the ball-room?"

I exhibited my unfinished cigar.

"When you're tired of oakum and a plank bed," I began....

"Caught, tried _and_ condemned. If you want to be useful, you musn't leave it as late as that."

"The sooner the better."

"I'll come as soon as there's a warrant out."

"Promise?"

"Faithfully. But there won't be any warrant if the cause succeeds."

"I pray you'll fail," was my fervent answer.

Joyce threw her cigarette petulantly into the fireplace.

"You've spoilt _every_thing by that!"

"My help was offered to you, not to your ridiculous cause."

"We can't be separated."

"Will you bet?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"Anything you like!"