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“So I thought,” replied Dan gloomily. “He’s such a vacillating ass. I told him he’d lose it if he didn’t hurry and make up his mind. Now he has lost it, and we’ve an old woman coming to plant herself among us. It isn’t that I dislike women——”

Barnabas grinned suddenly.

“What’s funny?” asked Dan.

“Your unnecessary statement, my child.”

“Well, it’s true.”

“I know. There was so remarkably little need to state the fact.”

“But,” went on Dan firmly, “I don’t like old women.”

“There are exceptions,” said Barnabas solemnly. “My paternal grandmother——”

“Bother your paternal grandmother. I tell you the studio’s let to an old woman, and they’re taking in the furniture now.”

Barnabas moved towards the door.

“Let’s have a look at it,” he said. “I wonder what her taste in studio furniture is like.”

He went out into his little garden, Dan following him. A dark oak bookcase and an oak chest were being removed from the van.

“By Jove, the ancient lady has got taste!” said Barnabas. “Genuine old stuff, or my name’s not John Kirby.”