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thing amusing to say on every topic that was touched upon;
but it exasperated Philip to find himself edged out of the
conversation. He was determined to stay the visitor out. He
wondered if he admired Norah. In the old days they had
often talked of the men who wanted to flirt with her and
had laughed at them together. Philip tried to bring back
the conversation to matters which only he and Norah knew
about, but each time the journalist broke in and succeed-
ed in drawing it away to a subject upon which Philip was
forced to be silent. He grew faintly angry with Norah, for
she must see he was being made ridiculous; but perhaps she
was inflicting this upon him as a punishment, and with this
thought he regained his good humour. At last, however, the
clock struck six, and Kingsford got up.
‘I must go,’ he said.
Norah shook hands with him, and accompanied him to
the landing. She shut the door behind her and stood outside
for a couple of minutes. Philip wondered what they were
talking about.
‘Who is Mr. Kingsford?’ he asked cheerfully, when she
returned.
‘Oh, he’s the editor of one of Harmsworth’s Magazines.
He’s been taking a good deal of my work lately.’
‘I thought he was never going.’
‘I’m glad you stayed. I wanted to have a talk with you.’
She curled herself into the large arm-chair, feet and all, in
a way her small size made possible, and lit a cigarette. He
smiled when he saw her assume the attitude which had al-
ways amused him.

Of Human Bondage