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“Not for long,” said Miss Vulliamy.

“Why?”

“Because,” said Sarah, with a dazzling smile. “I should sue you for breach of promise.” Her companion paled. “The damages would be—er—painfully easy to assess, wouldn’t they?”

Pardoner frowned. Then his face cleared.

“The contingency,” he said, “is happily remote. If it ever happened, I should give you half, because you’ve the sporting instinct.”

“How much,” said Sarah dreamily, “shall you give June?”

The other started.

“June? Oh, June’s all right. She—she wouldn’t expect anything. I—I shouldn’t like to offer it. It’ld be—er—indelicate.”

Miss Vulliamy sighed.

“Well, well,” she said, “I expect you know best. Any way, we’ve had a nice straight talk, haven’t we? I mean, we haven’t minced matters. I’ve told you that, but for the money, I wouldn’t be seen dead with you; and you’ve been equally frank.”

Pardoner shifted upon his chair.

“I said,” he protested, “I said you’d a very sweet way. I remember it perfectly.”

“That,” said Miss Vulliamy, “was your only lapse.” She raised her straight eyebrows and a faint smile hung upon her red lips. “But for that, you have been disconcertingly honest.”