Mek-mek-k-k-k! But oh, the ginky pictures! Oh, the Art Beautiful! Aniline rainbows exploding in a physical culture school couldn't beat that omelette!...

And guess who was pouring tea in the centre of the olio, Harry!" "You ?" inquired Annan wearily.
"Valerie West." "What in God's name has that bunch taken her up for ?" * * * * * For the last few weeks Valerie's telephone had rung intermittently summoning her to conversation with Mrs.Hind-Willet.
At first the amiable interest displayed by Mrs.Hind-Willet puzzled Valerie until one day, returning to her rooms for luncheon, she found the Countess d'Enver's brougham standing in front of the house and that discreetly perfumed lady about to descend.
"How do you do ?" said Valerie, stopping on the sidewalk and offering her hand with a frank smile.
"I came to call on you," said the over-dressed little countess; "may I ?" "It is very kind of you.

Will you come upstairs?
There is no elevator." The pretty bejewelled countess arrived in the living room out of breath, and seated herself, flushed, speechless, overcome, her little white gloved hand clutching her breast.
Valerie, accustomed to the climb, was in nowise distressed; and went serenely about her business while the countess was recovering.
"I am going to prepare luncheon; may I hope you will remain and share it with me ?" she asked.
The countess nodded, slowly recovering her breath and glancing curiously around the room.
"You see I have only an hour between poses," observed Valerie, moving swiftly from cupboard to kitchenette, "so luncheon is always rather simple.

Miss Tevis, with whom I live, never lunches here, so I take what there is left from breakfast." [Illustration: The Countess d'Enver.] A little later they were seated at a small table together, sipping chocolate.

There was cold meat, a light salad, and fruit.