Before the open fire in the den a sleek gray cat--adorned with a huge ribbon bow the exact shade of the roses (Bertram had seen to that!)--winked and blinked sleepy yellow eyes.

In Bertram's studio the latest "Face of a Girl" had made way for a group of canvases and plaques, every one of which showed Billy Neilson in one pose or another.

Up-stairs, where William's chaos of treasures filled shelves and cabinets, the place of honor was given to a small black velvet square on which rested a pair of quaint Battersea enamel mirror knobs.

In Cyril's rooms--usually so austerely bare--a handsome Oriental rug and several curtain-draped chairs hinted at purchases made at the instigation of a taste other than his own.
When the doorbell rang Pete admitted the ladies with a promptness that was suggestive of surreptitious watching at some window.

On Pete's face the dignity of his high office and the delight of the moment were fighting for mastery.