MYRA SHOPPED WITH discrimination, and the economy of effort which her disposition preferred, and even a man less infatuated than William Kindell appeared to be would not have found attendance upon her to be a very arduous or boring task.

She was not one of those women who turn over a hundred articles and remain in a condition of bewildered indecision as to what, if anything, they desire to purchase. Her usual method was to examine the shop windows, and occasionally to fasten upon some article which she would acquire, not without some shrewdness of bargaining in her indolent way, but with a fixed intention of having it at the best price she could, be it low or high. That was no more than her normal manner, but in this case her primary object was of another kind.

At eleven-thirty she required coffee. At twelve-fifty-five she consented graciously to a suggestion of lunch.

During the course of the meal, a discussion of her purchases led very naturally to the question of what duty she would have to pay to the English Customs upon them. She said that she had had no trouble coming out.

"No," he said, "you wouldn't be likely to have much, if you only brought your own things."

"I heard someone say it's much worse going back."

"You mean the English Customs are worse than the French? I should say no to that. Rather the other way. But, of course, if you come over and buy things here, the trouble comes when you're getting them home. . . . Not that it ought to be any trouble to you. You don't want to smuggle anything. It wouldn't be worth your while."

"No. Of course not. But I don't see how they can find out if anyone really plans to get some jewellery through. Suppose a woman hid a diamond ring in her dress? They don't search people. Not most of them, anyway."

"No; but I believe they're very good at guessing who to suspect. Though I've no doubt they get done at times. . . . They've got a good many ways of checking up that the public don't know. I believe a lot of the shop-assistants here are bribed to report purchases by foreign visitors, so that the Customs officers know just what to look for before they start."

"It seems rather a mean thing to do."

"But I don't think that would apply to such purchases as you made this morning. They weren't very costly, and you spread them out over several shops. All the same, I should say you'd do the wise thing if you declare them carefully."

"Of course I shall. . . . I wasn't thinking of them. You can't be charged duty on anything you brought out of England, if you're just taking it back?"

"No. You can be quite sure about that."

"Even if you didn't declare it when you came out?"

William Kindell did not answer this conundrum directly. He had wits enough to perceive that he was not merely asked his opinion on an abstract question. He said, "Perhaps I could advise you better if you would tell me just what the trouble is."

"I have got some things I didn't declare. I couldn't very well without Uncle knowing I'd got them with me, which there was a reason against, and I shan't want to going back."

Kindell looked puzzled. "It wasn't very wise to bring them under those circumstances, was it?"

"No, perhaps not. But it's done now. I thought I might go to places where I could wear them - times when he wouldn't be coming along."

"And now you're getting worried as to how you'll get them back?"

"Yes. I thought you might think of something. You know more about how these things are arranged."

"I'm afraid I can't claim - - "

"If you wanted to, I think you'd be certain to find a way."

"How soon are you going back?"

"Almost at once. There's a wretched meeting Uncle's got to attend."

"I think, if I were you, I'd go to the Customs here, and tell them just what the facts are. You'd probably be able to prove that whatever it is - jewellery? Well, I might have guessed that - was bought in England, and whether they make you pay duty or not, you could arrange to send them home by registered post." Myra showed no pleasure at this prospect. "I thought you'd think of something a lot better than that."

"Well, perhaps I shall. I'll let you know if I do."

It was an assurance that won him her sweetest smile. "I knew," she said, assuming much more than he had said, "that you'd think of something to get me out of the mess."

She shook her head in smiling rejection of his protest that she must not be too confident of his power to help her, however willing he might be.

She turned the conversation to more personal directions as they drove back to the hotel, being more familiar in her lazy sensuous manner than he had found her before.

On arriving, they parted at the lift-door, she going up to her uncle's suite, after he had accepted her invitation to join them for the English tea which the Professor required to be served to him at 4 p.m., in whatever country he might honour with his distinguished presence.

She went up to announce that she had accomplished what she had been told to do, and received the expected praise. Her digestive processes might have worked less smoothly had she been able to hear the conversation which was proceeding in one of the telephone booths on the ground floor. "I think," Kindell was saying, "they're trying to make me a stooge to smuggle the stuff through. But I'll see you tonight. I may know a bit more then."

Coming out of the booth, he met Irene, and accepted the invitation which she gave in her father's name that he should join them that night at dinner. She would have been better pleased had he not added that he might have to leave almost immediately afterwards. He did not mention the evasive debtor of whom he had told Myra, but he said he might have business which he could not defer.

Irene, who had assumed that an acceptance of the invitation would imply an evening among the pleasure resorts of a city which had so much gaiety to offer to the visitor whose purse was sufficiently plenished, allowed her disappointment to show for one short second before she answered. with her usual friendly tone: "Oh well, of course, if you must. Les affaires sont les affaires."

She went up to tell her father that she had given the invitation he had proposed, and how it had been received. Had she, she wondered, been incredibly snubbed? Did he mean that he would dine with her father, but did not intend to risk having to spend subsequent time with her? She put the idea resolutely from a generous mind.