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“Don’t be a fool,” said his fiancée. “What about the honeymoon?”

After a lot of argument, Pardoner agreed to waive the polo, on the understanding that the wedding-trip was restricted to fourteen days.

“Well, that’s that,” said Sarah. “Now then, where shall it be? I may say that I insist upon a church.”

A church was at last selected and Pardoner promised to make the necessary arrangements.

“The next thing,” said Miss Vulliamy, “is where to go. What about Dinard?”

“As you please,” said Virgil. “I suppose that’s where Fulke’s going,” he added carelessly.

Sarah shook her sweet head.

“Not till the first,” she replied. “Which brings us to June.”

“August,” corrected Virgil. “August. July—August—Sept——”

“June Townshend,” said Sarah shortly.

Pardoner started and dropped his cigarette.

“What about her?” he said uneasily. “She wouldn’t like Dinard. She’s a—a clergyman’s daughter.”

Sarah bowed before a little gust of laughter.

Then—

“Have you written to her?” she demanded.

“Er, no. Not yet. I mean, it’s a delicate matter.”