1.

　　Freddie Rooke gazed coldly at the breakfast-table. Through a gleamingeye-glass he inspected the revolting object which Parker, hisfaithful man, had placed on a plate before him.

　　"Parker!" His voice had a ring of pain.

　　"Sir?""What's this?""Poached egg, sir."Freddie averted his eyes with a silent shudder.

　　"It looks just like an old aunt of mine," he said. "Remove it!"He got up, and, wrapping his dressing-gown about his long legs, tookup a stand in front of the fireplace. From this position he surveyedthe room, his shoulders against the mantelpiece, his calves pressingthe club-fender. It was a cheerful oasis in a chill and foggy world,a typical London bachelor's breakfast-room. The walls were a restfulgray, and the table, set for two, a comfortable arrangement in whiteand silver.

　　"Eggs, Parker," said Freddie solemnly, "are the acid test!""Yes, sir?""If, on the morning after, you can tackle a poached egg, you are allright. If not, not. And don't let anybody tell you otherwise.""No, sir."Freddie pressed the palm of his hand to his brow, and sighed.

　　"It would seem, then, that I must have revelled a triflewhole-heartedly last night. I was possibly a little blotto. Notwhiffled, perhaps, but indisputably blotto. Did I make much noisecoming in?""No, sir. You were very quiet.""Ah! A dashed bad sign!"Freddie moved to the table, and poured himself a cup of coffee.

　　"The cream-jug is to your right, sir," said the helpful Parker.

　　"Let it remain there. Cafe noir for me this morning. As noir as itcan jolly well stick!" Freddie retired to the fireplace and sippeddelicately. "As far as I can remember, it was Ronny Devereux'

　　birthday or something . . .""Mr Martyn's, I think you said, sir.""That's right. Algy Martyn's birthday, and Ronny and I were theguests. It all comes back to me. I wanted Derek to roll along andjoin the festivities--he's never met Ronny--but he gave it a miss.

　　Quite right! A chap in his position has responsibilities. Member ofParliament and all that. Besides," said Freddie earnestly, drivinghome the point with a wave of his spoon, "he's engaged to be married.

　　You must remember that, Parker!""I will endeavor to, sir.""Sometimes," said Freddie dreamily, "I wish I were engaged to bemarried. Sometimes I wish I had some sweet girl to watch over me and. . . No, I don't, by Jove! It would give me the utter pip! Is SirDerek up yet, Parker?""Getting up, sir.""See that everything is all right, will you? I mean as regards thefoodstuffs and what not. I want him to make a good breakfast. He'sgot to meet his mother this morning at Charing Cross. She's leggingit back from the Riviera.""Indeed, sir?"Freddie shook his head.