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Dan swore softly beneath his breath. Jasper had moments of priggishness that were almost beyond the patience of man to endure. Except when these moods were on him he was not such a bad sort of fellow.

Barnabas choked down a little laughter and a big bit of annoyance at a gulp.

“Right oh! my child. And now I must return to my studio, or Tilly will have smoked all my cigarettes. I offered her one once, and henceforth she has looked upon them all as her own especial property. Worst of acting in a moment of ill-considered generosity. Dan, don’t be boorish any longer. I’ll leave Jasper to read you a further homily on the whole duty of man towards ancient ladies. So long, my children. Don’t trample down my forget-me-nots in your ardour.”

He gave them a cheerful nod and vanished within the studio.

His departure left a curious blank. It gave something the impression felt when the sun retires behind a cloud, or the sensation we experience the first morning of work following a month’s holiday. People almost invariably felt this sensation when Barnabas left them.