Inquisitive Angel

by S. Fowler Wright

Un-published M.S by S. Fowler Wright.>

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Note:        The original M.S. is a carbon copy with pages 1, 210, 211 & 212 missing.

Contents

1	Spirit
2	Results Of An Oversight
3	Mainly Conversation - And Cakes
4	Invitation To Lincoln's Inn
5	No Earthly Explanation
6	Laura Has A Bad Time
7	Flirtation On A New Plane
8	Liveliness At Godalming
9	Elya Has Her Own Way
10	Elya Makes Plans
11	Elya Has A Full Day
12	In Which Nothing Happens
13	Embassies Differ (part 1)
14	Embassies Differ (part 2)
15	Seduction Of Mr Surrell
16	The Adventure Of Fishpond House
17	The House Of Commons
18	Dinner For Five
19	Magistrates' Court
20	Lady Lucie Achieves Fame
21	A Question Of Demolition
22	A Quiet Evening
23	Return To London

Chapter 1

Spirit.

        ......meal, which they did not disdain to share, and that they proved to be bearers of a very pleasant message for him.

        Indeed, the angels of that period appear to have been without initiative, or any art or industry of their own, and to have been mainly employed in the humble office of a primitive postal service. And even the creation of a later millennium, feathered and winged though they were, had no higher occupations than those of a church choir, and the really difficult art of steering without a tail.

        Elya, however, - a young angel with whom we are particularly concerned - belonged to a later species. She had an adventurous spirit, such as is natural to the young. She was gifted with an intelligence far surpassing ( in some ways, though not in all ) that of the Human Race. Her sense of equity, in particular, was highly developed. She had studied it with a fascination which rewarded itself, and as diligently as a law student must study law.

        She had also a physical quality which was peculiar to her creation, and the envy of angels of more primitive patterns. She was not limited to the appearance of Abraham's tramps, nor to that of the later creation of the finely designed shoulder muscles which could manage both arms and wings. She had a fluidity of form which she could control to her own will, through a process of atomic transition ( for that which appears miraculous must always have a logical explanation ) such as our own knowledge of atomic structure and flexibility can partially, but not thoroughly, comprehend.

        Her sense of equity having led to a heavenly escapade which (apart from the indiscretions involved) would not be easily explicable in our limited language, the archangel Gabriel, who had considerable authority over her junior creation ( though they called him a black number when he was sufficiently far away ) instructed her that it would be well to make herself scarce in Heaven for a short period, and her sense of equity giving this direction the force of a command, she decided to pay a visit to the Solar System, where the varities of sentient life on the planet Earth excited her curiosity, with the result that she appeared in Oxford Street, London, England, on the sunny afternoon of the eighth of May 1953, having the discretion to assume the form of a small dog, after observing the unwillingness of Homo Sapiens to exhibit themselves to each other al fresco, and the control of her own appearance not extending to provision of the apparel without which she would have been unlikely to pre-ambulate peacefully in a London street.

        In this humble but active guise she wandered for an hour of delirious wonder through the crowded traffic, until, seeing a variety of ladies' garments in the window of one of the thoroughfare's largest stores, she decided to enter it, and obtained such clothing as she might require, to enable her to stand erect on her hind legs, as men and angels are accustomed to do, without exciting the hostility of those around her.

        She slipped in through a rotating door, but soon found that it was difficult to learn much while remaining unnoticed, and that her presence was of an extreme unpopularity.

        After much chasing, during which she restrained with difficulty a canine impulse to bite the calves of her persecutors, she gained an undiscovered refuge behind a large window curtain, and considered without satisfaction the dilemma to which she had fallen.

        She did not like being a dog. Her sight was poor, and she disliked having to judge everything round her by sense of smell, as it had become necessary to do. She was becoming acutely hungry, having necessarily assumed a dog's interior, as well as its outward aspect. She would have given much for a bone.

        She got over this last difficulty with her usual mental agility by changing herself into another dog which had been more recently fed.

        Having done this, she had leisure to develop plans, and to consider, in the first place, whether a dog was the best thing to continue to be.

        It was evident that, with her present exterior, she could not examine the merchandise in the store with the freedom of movement which she desired. In the street no one had noticed her at all. So long as she were active to avoid wheels and legs, she could go where she would. But it was different here, and while she had intelligence enough to see reason for that, consolation did not result.

        Then what should she do? If she could assume a form similar to that of one of the less unattractive of the bipeds who infested the store, she knew that she would be free to move as she would, so soon as she had clothed herself from the ample resources around her. But there was the awkward period of transition to be overcome. Could she hope to survive that ?

        She thought correctly that a young woman in a condition of nudity searching for attractive underclothing would excite even more lively attention than her canine presence had already done, though she was unsure what its exact nature might be. That attempt must wait for a quieter hour.

        But meanwhile was a dog the best she could do ?

        She had already realised that it was impossible to become any creature without its attributes being hers. As a dog, she was conscious of impulses which her judgement did not approve. She remembered St Paul ( who was too fond of quoting passages from his own works ) saying: "the things which we would not, those we do." It was an aphorism which applied in excelsis to an angel in a dog's body, and it was a state of affairs which should not be avoidably prolonged.

        But what form should she prefer? She had admired a horse in the street, but its size would distend the curtain to an extent which might draw undesired attention; and would a horse's impulses be better than those she had? Suppose she should become passionately desirous of carrying a man on her back? It was an idea of which she did not approve.

        Suppose she should become something small? An insect? Or perhaps a spider? That would be better. More intelligent, she believed. But insects can be easily, even unintentionally, crushed by larger creatures, and that raised an unpleasant doubt. What effect would it have on herself, if one of her ( temporarily intended ) incarnations should be destroyed? With a natural irritation, she had to admit to herself that she did not know.

        Her mind turned to another doubt. If, when she were a dog, a dog's nature affected hers, as it certainly did, would the same law apply if, or rather , she should gain the form of a girl? Following this thought she was led to wonder whether these incarnations were really new, or did she enter the body of an already existing dog? Particularly, should she become a girl, would she be entirely herself, or mingled with one already of carnal humanity?

        Every intelligence must come at time to the frontiers of its own range, which it is unpleasant to do. Her knowledge was extensive: her intelligence keen. She knew ( for instance ) very much about the sentient inhabitants of the planet to which she had come. She could have differentiated accurately among a hundred thousand of insect species. But this question of identity, as that of surviving destruction in an alien form, she must admit that she could not solve.

        Perhaps, she thought hopefully, she could have resolved these enigmas if she had not been a dog. And might there not be warning in that ? Suppose she should rashly incarnate herself in a creature of particularly low intelligence, might she not lose consciousness of that which she really was?

        It was a most disconcerting doubt, however unlikely it may have been, and the question of becoming an insect, or even a spider, met a decided no.

        She would retain her canine form until she could acquire that of humanity, with the covering which it so quaintly requires, and she would do this as promptly as could be contrived.

        With this decision, she became aware that there was a momentary silence around her. She pushed out her head, and saw an empty aisle, and a flight of stairs on its further side. Stairs are little used in the large stores, where lifts are available. The dash she made was unobserved.

        Standing for a moment at the top of the stairs, she saw an assistant serving a customer, neither of whom turned their eyes towards her. They were examining an evening frock. The department of feminine dress was here, which was something gained, for that which had been left had displayed toilet articles, iron-mongery, and kitchen utensils, which would have been of little immediate use.

        She crossed quickly to a dark and narrow space between two counters, into which she must introduce herself backward, as there would not have been space to turn, and settled down to wait till closing time should arrive, and she could acquire a more satisfactory shape.

        Having further time for thought, distracted only by the fact that she was now troubled by fleas which she could not reach, her sense of equity was annoyed by another doubt. Would it be right to take garments for which she was so clearly unable to pay?

        She pondered this vexatious point while the hours passed, and customers came and went, until she observed a woman advance silently down the aisle, glancing right and left, but rather as one who avoids observation than seeking service.

        Being satisfied that she was alone, she made a swift movement toward a stand on which a rose-coloured dressing gown was displayed, and stuffed it into a large bag which hung emptily from her arm.

        Elya, observing this, was unaware that she had given a low growl. But she saw the woman start violently at the sound, and then, as nothing further happened, her courage returned, and, with a quick nervous movement, she swept up a number of other garments, of less weight than value, such as are commonly described as undies or scanties by those that wear them, and was in the act of pushing them into the bag, when Elya, whose angelic and canine codes were alike outraged by what she saw, barked furiously, and made a sudden rush forward, at which the startled shoplifter threw down the damning evidence of the bag, and ran incontinently away.

        The noise brought half a dozen people, assistants and customers, to the spot, but, before that, Elya had recovered her self-control, and pushed rapidly backward into her former refuge.

        She watched the picking up of the bag, and the examination of its contents. She saw the stores detective arrive on the scene, make a list of the purloined articles, order that they should be returned to their places, and go off with the bag.

        She saw the assistants reverently smoothing out creases and refolding articles too delicate for the treatment they had received, and, as she did so, she saw the answer to the doubt she had had before.

        Having done so signal a service, for which she could not put in a claim for remuneration in an orthodox manner, was she not equitably entitled to repay herself to an equal degree?

        It was, at least, a debating point, and if it were subject to the qualification that she could scarcely clothe herself adequately without taking more than she had saved, was it not a possible reply that the shoplifter might have been deterred from other thefts on a later day?

        Anyway, even a specialist in equity should not be too fussy, especially in one of those cases which come under the inter-stellar proverb that necessity knows no law.

Chapter 2

Results Of An Oversight.

        It was about nine-thirty next morning when a young woman of singular charm and beauty, and dressed with the discrimination of those who have ample choice and heavenly judgement in what they do, approached the lift on the first floor, and was taken down by an attendant who looked at her curiously, and then, as she left, crooked a finger toward the store detective and pointed after her in a way which he instantly understood.

        Elya was passing through a swing door into Oxford street when she was addressed with a deferential suavity which would not have deceived anyone with the brains of a hen, even though fortified with a better conscience than a specialist in equity could be expected, under the circumstances, to have.

        "Will madam kindly let me see the bill for the dress that she has just bought?"

        "I haven't just bought one," she replied, with the simple truth which is often so much more confusing than many lies. "Why should you think that I have?"

        "That," he replied, with a prosaic which was no comfort to her, "was what I wanted to know. I didn't think as you had."

        Elya turned on him a smile which would have captivated any of the six directors of the firm ( the seventh was a woman ), but a store detective who could be vanquished by female wiles would not keep his job for a week. He said: "When we sell a frock here we always take off the ticket."

        "But you didn't sell it. I've just told you that," she answered, with the patient sweetness of one who endures folly without offence, at which he gave up the verbal duel, and said curtly: "Perhaps you'll come into the office. I suppose you don't want to be given into custody in the street?"

        "I don't mind going into your office with you, if you think that will do any good," she replied, with the exasperated consciousness that she was not handling the position to a satisfactory end. But she was restricted in her technique by the knowledge that the price ticket was not only on the dress she wore, but on most, if not all, of the undergarments which she had requisitioned for the assertion of her respectability. In short, she was aware that she had been a simple absolute fool, which even angels dislike to know.

        She was led into a private office, where an austere female of mature years gazed at her with glassy eyes.

        "Another, Barton?" she said.

        "Yes, madam. Ticket still on the back," he said grimly.

        "It will save time," she said to Elya, in a tone of ice, "if you take it off. I suppose you've got your own underneath."

        "I'm not wearing two dresses, if you mean that."

        "Then you'd better tell Barton where you've hidden your own, and he'll fetch it, unless you prefer to go to jail in your underwear."

        "I told him - ," Elya began, and then stopped with the consciousness that the game was lost unless it should be played in a different way. Those price tickets beneath her skirts!

        The astonished manageress saw the clothes collapse into a heap on the floor.

        She gazed at them with a white face, and a slack jaw. "Where the - What the - ," she began; and then "Barton did she slip through the door?"

        But madam, conscious as she stooped that she was being bitten by a most vicious flea, could find nothing under the desk.

        "Barton," she said. "I'm not blaming you, but she's tricked us somehow. You'd better phone for the police."

        As she spoke, she struck at her cheek, from which something leapt. She said: "Barton, there must have been a flea in those clothes...... Look, there it is."

        She struck out wildly, lost sight of the leaping pest, and forgot what she had been doing at the astounding sight of a nude young woman seated in relaxed comfort in her own chair.

        "You shameless hussy! she gasped. "You'll get six months for this..... Barton - "But it was no use calling on Barton now, for the detective had left the room.

        Elya gazed at the outraged woman with a recovered placidity. "It's not my fault," she said. "You would have it this way. I wasn't going to be slapped down by you...... But as for being ashamed of how you were made!...... Don't you think its rather blasphemous?..... I don't wonder you call it the fall of man..... And yet, of course," ( for her sense of equity supervened ) "if I had your figure I shouldn't feel just as I do."

        She spoke dispassionately, for though many human oddities may be duplicated in celestial regions, the wearing of clothes has never had popular support, and even votaries of paint would be hard to find. ( The night-gowns worn by the singing angels when performing to earthly audiences are a gesture of politeness only. )

        "Of course," she added equably, "I'll put them on again if you like. But I'd better take off the tickets."

        The bewildered woman, horribly conscious that one of the directors might enter the room at any minute, and that she would have great difficulty in giving any satisfactory and plausible explanation of what had occurred, made no objection to this.

        Elya dressed in a composed manner, removing the price tickets as she did so, and putting them in a neat heap on the lady's desk.

        She left without further opposition, giving a friendly word in passing to the astonished Barton, but she had the sense to see that she could not continue such escapades without catastrophe. "I must play this game," she thought, "from now on in a different way."

Chapter 3

Mainly Conversation - And Cakes.

        Elya walked toward Bond street, pondering what she should do next, but in the most contented mood that she had yet known.

        She was not entirely satisfied with her own behaviour, which had not been conspicuous either for dignity or logic, and she did not intend that her youthful levity should give Gabriel just occasion for any of his sneering, old-fashioned remarks when they should meet again, as she knew they must.

        But, by whatever means, she had obtained the clothes to which the human biped so closely clings - and very good ones they were!

        Also, now that she had the use of a human brain, instead of that of a dog, she saw some things clearly which had been hazy before. She did not inhabit the body of any pre-existent young woman. She was in every way self made, and herself alone. Even a dog should have been able to deduce that, from the process of atomic change through which her metamorphoses were contrived. She would never be one again. But there had been real fun in being a flea! Only the sudden terror she had felt when the beastly woman began slapping about would have availed to put so abrupt an end to that joyous bout.

        Now she must adjust her mind to the higher grades of existence on this queer planet she had come so far to explore. And first she must get a meal.

        Fortunately, the difficulty of money did not arise, for, when she had chosen her clothes, she had also presented herself with a de luxe handbag, which contained a purse, and a pound note. Certainly, she had not paid herself for her services in scaring the shoplifter in a too-niggardly spirit.

        Now she went in to Bustard's, took a seat near the windows of the first-floor room, so that she could overlook the traffic the while she ate, and ordered coffee and cakes, after she had been disappointed by the information that lunch was not yet being served.

        She had not sat there long, enjoying and marvelling at the sights below her, before a young man, dark-haired, brown-eyed and lean of build, sat down at her table.

        His self-excuses for this intrusion were that the room was rather full and that a window seat is attractive when the sun shines, as it did on May the ninth 1953, that being the day with which we are now concerned. His reason was that she was in fact, as well as his own assessment, the loveliest girl he had ever seen.

        He ordered coffee, watched her take her third pastry from a plate which had held eight, and took one himself.

        She looked at him very much as the store detective had looked at her, decided that men existed for other purposes than a needless quarrel, took a meringue of particularly repulsive appearance, and said indifferently: "Oh, well, we can order more."

        "Uncertain of whether he had been rebuked for an unintentional liberty, but glad of any conversational opening, he answered randomly: "Oh, yes, they're good cakes you get here. But I suppose they're not very digestible. Not more than one - or," he added hastily, with a belated consciousness that the remark might be taken in a too-personal way - "or perhaps two."

        She looked at him coldly. "My digestion is perfect," she said simply as though mentioning a fact which should have been evident without words.

        "Yes," he answered, "I'm sure everything is," and was again aware that it might not be developing the conversation in the best way.

        She answered without taking offence, but in the same tone of one who deals with matters too obvious to be discussed: "There's nothing wrong with my lungs, if you mean that."

        For a practising barrister, even in the first year, he was not showing the adroitness that the occasion required. But while he paused, in momentary doubt of how best such a conversation could be continued, she showed that she had no intention of letting it drop, by looking down into the street, and saying: "I've been marvelling at how many cars there are. Why does everyone move about?"

        He looked surprised. He said: "London's always like that. I suppose you have just come into town. But I should say that most cities are much the same."

        "Well, it's new to me," she replied. "I've just come from - abroad."

        Wondering where the home of such loveliness might be found, and combining flattery with a quest for this information, he said: "Your country must be worth visiting, if the first introduction be any guide. But that would be too much to hope."

        "Meaning you like my looks? But I was different then.... Only an impudent youngster who made Gabriel lose his hair."

        Wondering still more at this intimate and yet baffling glimpse into her family life, and whether Gabriel were elder brother or husband ( but there was no ring on her hand! ) he went on: "Are you going to bless us by living here now, or is it only a short visit?"

        "Oh, I wouldn't say that! I expect to stay quite a while. I've come too far to go back without seeing anything. And besides - "

        She tantalised him with the unfinished sentence, breaking off to call a passing waitress to bring another plate of pastries and cakes. Then she turned the conversation again to the traffic that moved below.

        "I think they drive very skilfully. I expect there'd be an accident but for that."

        "Well, there are a good many."

        "Many accidents? Not serious ones? Surely they'd stop it at once, if there were?"

        "People don't look at it in that way. It is regarded as essential to modern life."

        "They can't really believe that..... You mean where ever anyone is, he wants to be somewhere else? Then why not get there and make the cars into cupboards or something else really useful?..... And if they do all want to get somewhere else they're not really having a good try. Do you notice that most of the cars are half empty, although there are crowds walking the same way?"

        "Well, the cars are not theirs."

        "Still, I should have thought they'd have found some way to stop them, and get in..... I'm sure I shall love your country. I didn't know that the whole universe had anything quite so quaint."

        "It could be argued, no doubt though it is a somewhat unusual view.... I suppose you come from one where the customs are very different?"

        "I should say I do! Why we used to make hoops which - But I should never make you understand about that."

        "You could try."

        "I don't think I could.... But you're eating nothing." She glanced at him with sudden sympathetic concern: "Oh, but you told me. You've got something wrong with your inside."

        Resenting a charge for which there was really very little foundation, he said: "Oh, no. I didn't mean that," and took a macaroon sandwich which cleared the dish, while she asked: "Have you got a car?"

        "No. I'm sorry I haven't."

        "That's a pity. I thought you could have taken me here and there."

        "I should have been delighted...... I may say I shall be. My father has two, and I can always borrow one for a week. He lives near Godalming. I should have to go down and fetch it."

        "I don't know where Godalming is, but it sounds as though you live somewhere nearer than that. Have you got a house?"

        "I've got a flat on the Embankment. I hardly need a house, being alone."

        "Well, I suppose there'll be room for two."

        He controlled surprise. He said: "You mean you'd like me to put you up?"

        "Yes, of course. You see I've only got a pound, and that was just for luck; and it gets colder at night. I've found that out already..... I know people don't give others the things they've got without having money for them. Gabriel made me learn that, and a lot more. He said he didn't want me to disgrace him, as well as myself."

        "You mean you're without money, and quite alone?"

        "Well, I couldn't have brought it with me, could I? And no-one else wanted to come."

        Leonard Weyleigh became silent. He knew that if he were required to give counsel's opinion upon the position, or to obtain it from a more experienced barrister, it would be that prudence required retreat.

        Did she intend to return with him to his flat, practice alluring ways, and rob him while he slept of all the money and portable valuables that were his?

        Her bold approach was suggestive of this, in more ways than one. And yet was bold quite the right word? Was it not rather casual - matter-of-fact? Nor could he say that she practised seductive ways. From first to last, her eyes had been on the cakes rather than him. He could not say the same of his own, which had been mainly on her. And it was an occupation he liked. But for Laura - and convention, of course..... But what on earth was he to do or say?"

        As the conversation paused thus, and her eyes wandered to the street again, as though having lost interest in a decided thing, he became aware that the waitress was hanging round, with a small tablecloth in her hand. He saw that the room was now almost empty, and that most of the tables had been laid for lunch. She said: "If you've quite finished, perhaps - ?"

        Elya turned her eyes from the street. She said: "Oh, yes, we've finished. You can take them," pointing to the empty cake dishes. She picked up her bag, rising to go, and then stayed. "Oh, but you're laying lunch, aren't you? Then it might be silly to go."

        The girl, who was making out separate bills for two who had not come in together, said: "Yes, madam," with indifferent politeness, and then: "How many cakes, sir?" And learning that Leonard had only eaten two looked at the plates in calculating astonishment. But facts are facts, and it was certainly no part of her duty to criticise the appetites of the customers.

        Elya looked at her bill as the waitress removed the crockery. She was of a practical mind, and would not welcome a second encounter with the legal customs of her new world. She said: "I didn't know it would be this much. Shall I have enough left for lunch?"

        Leonard Weyleigh, who had risen uncertainly, it being much earlier than he was accustomed to take a midday meal, but being conscious of a strong disinclination to go, though fully aware of the awkwardness of the position into which she was steering him, said: "I suppose it would depend upon how much Lunch you have."

        She became aware that he had risen, and dealt with the more immediate issue. "Oh, but you're not going? If you do, I shall have to come."

        Did he wish that? Not, at least, without some plan, some appreciation of where it might lead. He sat down, saying: "Well, it's rather early for lunch, but, if that's an invitation, I won't decline."

        "It's not exactly an invitation, because you may have to pay for both, but of course I didn't want you to go."

        "I think I could manage that."

        "Then there's no reason you shouldn't stay. You can tell me what's best for our insides, and about your flat, and what I'll need to get for tonight..... Oh, and that'll mean money again. What a nuisance to everyone all this paying must be. I wonder they haven't decided to give it up long before now."

        "It would not be a simple matter," he answered. "But surely money is not unknown in your own country?"

        He thought he had found an opening here which would lead to the information that he desired; and so it may be said that it did, for when she exclaimed with wonder: "Of course, we don't have money. What use would it be to us?" and he answered with the straight question: "Could you tell me where the country is where money is not required?" she replied: "Yes, it's about three million miles beyond Sirius, and the second turn to the left."

        But he found no satisfaction in that. He said: "Well, of course, if you don't want to tell me! But I suppose it was bad manners to ask."

        "It wasn't bad manners at all. But what's the use of saying things that you won't believe?"

        "I could try."

        "Then will it be any use if I say it again?"

        "I didn't mean jokes like that."

        "Suppose we talk about it some other time."

        "That's for you to say. The first question is what you're going to do after lunch. Haven't you really any means of getting money at all?.... I mean traveller's cheques, or anything like that."

        "No. How could I?.... I know what you mean. You'd probably be surprised at how many things I do know. But there are lots that I don't. I've seen that already. More than I should have thought there could possibly be..... You see the difficulty was that I wasn't sure where - I mean what part of the world - I should come to, and I had to learn lots and lots of things that may be no use at all."

        Failing to make sense of this, and being roused by a feeling that she must think he could be bamboozled by tricky words, which any barrister would resent, though they should come ( as they did) from the loveliest lips in the land, he resolved to challenge her with all the skill that he had.

        He said: "You must at least have decided on coming to this country, or you would not have acquired our language to such perfection - unless you come from one of the Dominions, or the United States, where travellers' cheques would be very easy to get."

        "I don't know whether you're really serious when you say that," she answered, looking at him with smiling eyes, which lightened the discourtesy of her words, "but it doesn't sound sense to me.

        "I learnt English because it's talked over half the Earth - I'm not wrong about that, am I? - and I learnt Chinese also, and Russian and Spanish and French; and it seemed likely that one of those would be all I should need to know. You couldn't expect me to learn all the hundreds of languages which are talked by small nations, which I shouldn't be likely to need."

        "Well," he said, with little purpose beyond keeping up the conversation, for the more she talked the more certain she would be to slip, "if you learnt to speak them all as well as you do English, I shouldn't think you've done much else from the day you were born."

        "But I wasn't - ," she began, and checked herself with the realisation that she had already gone too far with incredible assertion. "The real question is what I'm going to do about money now."

        "Do you mean you know Russian as well as you do English?"

        "Yes. Why not? I just know it."

        "And how to speak it?"

        "Yes, of course."

        "And Chinese."

        "Yes."

        "Can you write Chinese?"

        "Yes. You have to know how to write languages. I saw that."

        Leonard had had a wild idea. He almost spoke it. But was it likely she would? And besides, it was an incredible tale. What he had to do was to convict her of some falsehood which would drive her into frank confession, or give him courage to walk out on her, as he knew that he ought to do. He saw that he must try again. He said: "Well here's the menu."

        He found that she read its queer mixture of English and pseudo-French without difficulty, though she referred to him as to which dishes he would advise her to choose. He thought: "She hasn't come from any remote land where these languages were unknown. More likely Shaftesbury Avenue, or Soho." .... But was there much explanation in that?

Chapter 4

Invitation To Lincoln's Inn.

        Delicately, with a sure accuracy of touch at which he must wonder, Elya was peeling a ripe pear.

        The rind, transparently thin, fell from the knife in a long spiral which did not break, and curled on the plate beneath.

        While lunch had progressed, and she had been largely occupied in its consumption, he had had leisure to think, and had formed a plan which gratified foolish desire, and which he yet felt to be cautious and sound.

        His friend Bentley, who rented the flat immediately above his own, had just gone on a three weeks' holiday, leaving him the key, so that he could forward letters, or deal with any business which might arise.

        There was a notice on the door that Mr Bentley, who rented the flat was away until the 27 th., and that callers should apply at No. 9 below. If Miss - ( he could surely ask for her name, which should be some indication of nationality ) should be put up there for one night ( he would undertake nothing more ) it was most unlikely that she would be disturbed, and improbable that her presence would be observed.

        He felt it to be a good plan. Cautious. Prudent. Even the conventions would be observed. And it gave further time for probing the mystery of this amazing girl, so familiar yet so remote, which he was determined to do.

        He put the plan to her, and found that it was well, though somewhat casually, received.

        He said: "Then if that's how it's to be, we'd better know each other's name. Mine's Leonard Weyleigh."

        "Mine's Elya."

        "And after that?"

        "There's no need to change it, is there?"

        "I didn't mean that." ( He was aware of some ambiguity in the way he had put it. He certainly hadn't meant that she should change it for his. ) "I meant what is your second name."

        "Do I need two here?"

        "It's usual to have a surname. If you understand the language, you must know that."

        "Yes. I suppose I did. I knew people have more than one. But I hadn't thought of it. Is it a law? Not for visitors, I suppose."

        "Not exactly. But you can surely make use of your father's name?"

        "Oh, you mean I could be Fitz-something. Yes, I see. But I never had -" ( But it wouldn't do to say that.) "Would Fitz-Gabriel do?"

        "I don't see why it shouldn't, if it's the truth."

        For obvious reasons, she made no answer to that. He thought at first that he had learnt little, or nothing. But did not the name of Gabriel tell him a good deal? It implied possible Teutonic, but more probable Latin descent. Say European, going perhaps a long way back, her ancestors having wandered to other lands. But he still told himself that it was the Charing Cross Road, more likely than not.

        He called for the bill, examined the contents of his wallet, and handed her two pounds, saying: "You'll need these, if you've really got no luggage. I expect you'll need more, but it's honestly all I can spare."

        She answered: "You're being really kind to me. I'm glad I met you. But I'm sure I shall be able to pay you back, when I've had time to look round."

        For the first time, she looked at him in a direct personal way. He saw gratitude in her eyes, but recognised ( was he pleased? ) that she was still of an aloof unemotional mood. Pulchritude the certainly was; but of its practical uses, no trace at all.

        "I've got to get back now," he said. "I've got some pleadings to settle before midday tomorrow, and there are one or two points about which I'm more shaky as to what the law is than I should like my clients to guess..... But it may be best every way for you to come back with me first, and get settled in."

        She answered, with a quick grasp of the implication of what he said, which confirmed his opinion that she had been born within two miles of the vortex of human misery on the north side of Fleet Street: "Oh, you mean you're a fighting lawyer. It must be fun for you, though I suppose it's rather different for those who get fleeced..... Of course, we'll go back at once, and you must forget I exist. I expect I've hindered you too much as it is."

        She spoke with such transparent sincerity that he gained confidence in her indifference to himself. Without feeling entirely pleased, he said: "Perhaps it's a case for a taxi." If she should behave discreetly in that sheltered propinquity, this judgement would be confirmed, though with no diminution of the enigma of what she was. And, as to that, he soon had to recognise that even a jury of Victorian matrons would have agreed that propriety had been fully observed.

        Arriving at their destination, he led her up a narrow spiral stone stairway to a small landing which had three numbered doors, one of which bore his name in white letters: Mr Leonard Weyleigh.

        He had taken the key from his pocket, but put it back, with a frown of puzzled annoyance, when he saw that his door was slightly open. He knew who must be inside, and foresaw an interview of inevitable difficulty, but it was too late to draw back.

Chapter 5

"No Earthly Explanation."

        As Leonard stepped aside to enable Elya to go first into the room, she met the lady who was already there without precedent introduction, and ignoring ( if she were aware of ) that conventional necessity, she spoke at once, with the freedom that heavenly nature inclined her to use.

        "Hullo! Leonard said that there'd be no one here. But I think that I shall get on all right with you.... At least, I'm not quite sure that I shall."

        Laura Bentley - a blue-eyed blonde, who knew herself to be as attractive by earthly standards as most men would desire - gave no answer to this surprising frankness - and Leonard, who had now entered the room, said hurriedly: "Of course, I couldn't guess you'd be here..... This is Miss Laura Bentley..... Laura, this is Elya. She's just come from abroad. I'm sure you'll get on splendidly."

        Laura felt constrained to hold out her hand. She said, in a tone which would have held no conviction to female ears: "Yes, of course. Glad to meet you. Did you have a good journey?.... Len, you never told me you'd got a sister."

        "Elya isn't my sister. I only met her two hours ago. I've got to put her up somewhere.... She's only just got into town, and has nowhere to go."

        During the thirty seconds of silence that followed, he was conscious that the explanation had a queer sound. But what could he say that Laura would not be certain to misunderstand - or perhaps understand too well? And meanwhile the two had looked at each other, and learnt more than men might have done in as many years, and if Laura still had a bewildered mind there were exceptional excuses for that.

        Laura, who made judicious and moderate use of the cosmetics which have been developed from ancestral woad, and are in such common use that few, either women or men, would have regarded her as being painted at all, thought: "It can't be natural. But what on earth does she use?"

        That anything on earth didn't limit the enquiry was unlikely to suggest itself in explanation. Complimenting the Western Hemisphere beyond its extreme worth, her thoughts went to New York. Without enthusiasm, she recognised that she was looking at the loveliest girl she had ever seen. And she was somehow so new.... And so were here clothes. As though they had all been put on for the first time. Who on earth could she be? And what brought her here?

        And meanwhile Elya was fighting for self control. She thought that she had no use for Laura, and it was transparently evident that Laura had none for her. She wasn't worried about that. Her trouble was an almost uncontrollable impulse to be a flea. And she knew that she had yielded perilously to that erratic inclination only a few hours earlier, and had then resolved not again to incur the hazard of being anything so small..... And the woman's pursuing slaps! No, she must choose a better method than that.

        And then she reminded herself that Leonard had said that he had work to do, and an impulse of generosity ( for however impish she could be, she was of a fundamental kindliness ) caused her to subdue her feelings to make use of the woman for his relief.

        "Leonard," she asked, "hadn't Laura better come out with me to spend the two pounds, while you go on looking up law?"

        Laura, almost grasping the effrontery of this suggestion, turned to Leonard to say: "I only called because Charles wrote to say that there might be a letter coming here from the Pensons, and he thought I'd better deal with it, instead of you sending it on to him. But there's nothing upstairs, and Wilson let me in, so that I could wait for you here. But I can see that you've got an - important case; and if there's no letter I'd better be getting on."

        But Elya was not easy to put aside. Before Leonard could reply, she said: "I'm not his law case, if you mean that. But he's got work to do, and doesn't want to be hindered by us..... He's putting me up for the night, and I want to buy some whatever - well, you'll know what I shall need. I don't see why it should take us more than an hour. But if he doesn't want me back so soon, you might have tea with me after that. I've got nearly three pounds, so it ought to do."

        Laura, who was normally a good-natured girl, glared at her from eyes in which bewilderment fought with rage. Had she - had they all - gone mad?

        Leonard was putting the intruder 'up for the night' - whatever might be the meaning of that - but wasn't it evident? - And yet, Leonard! - Of course, they hadn't expected to find her here, but as they had they were making the most use of her that they could - she was to go out to buy a night-gown for the event!

        "Unless," she said savagely, "you're non compos mentis you're about the most brazen beast that I ever met."

        Elya looked puzzled. She said: "I know I'm not a brazen beast, so I suppose I must be whatever else you're trying to say, but I don't know what it is."

        She felt that something was wrong somewhere. With celestial thoroughness she had learnt the language, including about 50,000 technical words that she was unlikely to need, and half as many colloquialisms that she was more likely to hear, as they had been in use for a century past, but non compos mentis had no meaning for her. Had some ( ) jester played her a trick? She thought not, though she knew that such things did occur in her heavenly home. She would have developed the subject, but Laura was in no mood for discursive talk. She said curtly: "It means you're loony. I suppose you can understand that..... And perhaps you'll be good enough to get out of the way."

        She tried to push past Elya as she said that, making for the door, which, as they stood in that narrow room , was not easy to reach, unless Elya should move, or be pushed aside.

        But she showed no inclination to give ground to this angry request. She appeared to justify the suggested description when she enquired, with more show of temper than had been aroused by any previous incident of earthly experience: "Should you dislike being bitten by a large flea? And where should you hate it most?"

        How Laura would have replied to this enquiry is beyond knowledge, for Leonard interposed before the question had been completed. He caught Laura's arm as he exclaimed: "Look here Laura, you're not going like that. You've got it all wrong. I'm simply lending Elya Charles' room for a night, because she's alone in London, and got nowhere to go. You can't say there's anything wrong in that. I'm sure if he were here - "

        "Yes," Laura agreed, with no increase of friendliness in her voice, "I dare say he would!.... But would you mind giving me the lady's name. I'm not sufficiently familiar to address her as you are doing."

        "Laura, don't be a pig! Can't you understand that Elya's a stranger to us? We don't want her to go back home with a report that no Londoner knows how to behave."

        It would be too much - far too much - to imply that Laura responded to this appeal in a spirit which Leonard would have approved, but it seemed to have a curiously quietening effect. She became still for a moment, and then said, in a better modulated voice than before: "No, I won't be a pig. I'd rather learn what good manners are. You must just tell me what I'm to do.... I'm to go out with Elya now, and do some shopping. She wants everything a girl needs for the night, and we're to buy it all with two pounds, or perhaps three.... Don't you think," she asked, as one anxious to solve a difficult problem in a practical way, "we'd better take a bus to the Whitechapel Road? I could manage the fares myself, and perhaps contribute a few shillings besides."

        Leonard knew her too well to be deceived by this treacherous calm. He knew, at the very best, that it must mean later trouble for him. But, for the moment, it seemed to open a way of precarious peace. And he had already realised that the two pounds which he had tendered to relieve his inexplicable guest's financial stringency were inadequate. The trouble had been that there was not much more that his wallet held. And why should he give all he had to a stranger who had fastened herself upon him?

        But it was difficult to harden his heart against that radiant indifferent loveliness, and certainly he could not allow them to take a bus to the East End. He supposed vaguely that the ladies who inhabit that part of London require transparencies for the night, and paint their faces when morning comes, but there was incongruity in the thought of Elya being supplied from the depots at which they shopped. He said: "You can't do that. Perhaps I'd better give you a cheque."

        "It wouldn't be any good," Laura replied. "You know how far your bank is from here, and it's half past two now - and besides, I've got something else to do before midnight.... But it doesn't matter," she added sweetly, "I've got an account at Dickens & Jones. I'll put everything down there."

Chapter 6

Laura Has A Bad Time.

        Laura had the natural jealousy of a girl who discovers her fiancé introducing another of surpassing loveliness to his flat, whom he tells her he only met two hours before, whom he only knows by her first name, and whom he has already arranged to 'put up' for the night; and this natural jealousy was complicated by an equally natural resentment when the unknown spoke of and to her as of some one whom she could order about.

        But she was fundamentally sensible, and this quality, supported by the intuition in which women are said to excel, warned her that there was something beyond the obvious - something queer - in the event upon which she had been an unexpected and unwelcome intruder. And even to think of herself as unwelcome required qualification. Her appearance had been embarrassing to Leonard. That had been easy to see, and equally so to explain, but she had not observed that it had roused in Elya any emotion at all.

        "I'm to be used," she thought angrily, "if I can be helpful to her; but otherwise I might be a doormat to take the dirt off her shoes."

        Divided thus between anger and bewilderment, and having observed that Elya was not reluctant to talk, she decided wisely that it would be best to encourage her to do so. "For though," she thought, "what she says may be mostly lies, more likely than not, I'll pretend to take it all in, and if I do that she'll give herself away in the end. Liars always do."

        And while she came to this prudent resolve, she had the satisfaction of thinking that, whatever might be the truth of a puzzling affair, she had insured herself against being made the fool of the piece by her sweet-voiced decision that the purchases should be charged to her account. "If he's up to any monkey business," she thought, "that'll be something he'll find it hard to digest."

        She led the way out, with Elya following on the narrow stair, and said, as they stood on the pavement together: "I wasn't kidding. I really am rather short of time. I think a taxi - "

        "Oh, yes," Elya agreed readily. "I know all about them. I really know a good deal. They're where men expect you to kiss them. Leonard brought me in one. I think he was surprised that I didn't try."

        With this light-hearted display of esoteric knowledge, she waved a white hand at a passing vehicle, and continued to develop the theme when they were seated within it.

        "Of course, before I came, I'd learnt what men are like in all parts of the world. I expected him to take a quicker interest than he did, but I think he was rather scared. I don't suppose he'd met anyone quite so perfect before. I mean, look at your nose, and your left ear! Though," she added, with her natural courtesy, "I expect most women are worse than you.... But what I hadn't expected was that I should have any feelings myself. It ought to be fun when I get back."

        "Perhaps I ought to tell you that he is practically engaged to me."

        "It's kind of you to warn me, of course. But I know that it doesn't always make much difference. I've learnt all about that too. And besides practically!..... But you shouldn't look on it as quite a normal event. I may go back any time. And then he'll come to you to cheer him up, more likely than not."

        "Do you mind telling me where you may be going back to?"

        "Oh, I - I suppose I shouldn't have said what I did! I shouldn't mind telling you, but what use is it when I know I shan't be believed?"

        "You can't tell that till you try."

        "I tried with Leonard."

        "Well, you seem to have him under control."

        "Not because he believed what I said."

        "And yet it was really true?"

        "Yes, of course."

        "Then perhaps I might, if you tell me that seriously."

        "I don't think you could. It's the way your minds are made. You can't believe anything unless it's like something you've heard before."

        "Who do you mean by that? Leonard and I?"

        "I mean men and women. Not specially you."

        "Including yourself, of course?"

        "No. I'm different. That's what he couldn't - and I know you couldn't - believe."

        "You can try me."

        "Then I'll make it as simple as possible. I'll just say I'm not human. I've come from outside the Earth."

        That was not what Laura had expected to hear. She had thought that she was dealing with an adventuress, who would try to fool her with clever lies. But she now revised that opinion. She was in contact with one to whom the description non compos mentis would not be one of vulgar abuse, but sober accuracy. A case for pity. And had Leonard known or guessed this? Perhaps a client whom he was trying to save from the mental home where she certainly ought to be? And would he have told her this had he had a private opportunity?

        She saw that she might have done injustice in two directions at once; but the technique on which she had resolved might still be that which the occasion required.

        She said: "Well you're the one to know best about that. I don't see any reason why you should tell me what isn't true. How long have you been here?"

        "Only since yesterday. I began by being a dog."

        "And then you thought you'd like being a girl better?"

        "Yes. I never meant to be anything else. But there was the trouble about the clothes. I was a flea for a few minutes, but I didn't mean to stay being that."

        "It must have been rather fun."

        "Yes, it was. I'd show you now, but there'd be the clothes left lying about; and there mightn't be time to put them on again before we should have to get out."

        "I don't think I should try that now, if I were you. We're almost there, and the next question is whether you know what you want, or are you leaving it all to me?"

        "I'll leave it to you, unless I see anything that I'd like to have. I don't want to have to do a lot of hunting about.... I got these clothes without help, but you see I was alone in the store, and could sort everything, and think it over before I chose. You wouldn't say I did badly? Or perhaps I'm wrong about that?"

        "I think you're beautifully dressed. But I wish you'd tell me what really did happen - I mean about being alone in the store."

        "Well, I just was. I stayed there during last night. It was all quite simple except not taking the price tickets off. I don't like telling you that, because I was such a fool. But I never have told a lie. I expect I could, if I tried. I mean really well. You and Leonard tell lies all the time. I shouldn't like doing that. You keep on thinking what's best to say..... But I got out of it rather well. It was then that I was the flea. I bit the woman about the face, and the detective thought he was seeing ghosts.... Is this where we get out?"

        The shopping gave Laura one of the worst times that her life had known.

        Elya was very careful at first. She grudged spending eighteen pence. Wasn't there something cheaper than that? That was before she had realised what was meant by everything being put down to Laura's account. But when she did, she showed a disposition to buy everything of the best - that the shop held.

        She told Laura that she had no reason to worry. She would pay for it all herself.

        "I thought you hadn't got anything except the two pounds."

        "I haven't now, but I shall."

        "You mean some's being sent on?"

        "No. Where should it be from? I mean I shall have it, like everyone else."

        "Yes, but how?"

        "I don't know. But I shall get some. Don't you see that everyone's got some. Do you think I shall be more stupid than anyone else?"

        "But it's usual to get it first, and then spend it."

        "You didn't say that when you explained about having an account. Anyway, I've not got it now, and I want the things."

        Laura reflected with trepidation that her account had never been above seven pounds ( or had it been eight last April? ). She observed one department after another referring to the accounts office before passing the invoices. When Elya selected a dressing gown at thirteen guineas, she was not surprised when she was asked to have a word with the cashier.

        "Madam," a firm-lipped, suave-tongued lady said pleasantly, "I thought you might like to know that your purchases are already over fifty pounds."

        "Oh," she answered easily, "that's all right," - and had a disconcerting memory as she spoke that Elya had said that she told lies all the time - "that's all right. I'm not buying for myself. It's for a lady who's visiting London, and I've been asked to look after her."

        "And she will be paying for them before she leaves?"

        "No, I'm sure she won't. I shouldn't think of asking her. Mr Leonard Weyleigh - I expect you know him; he's a barrister in the city - told me it would be all right if I had anything she wanted put down to my account. You needn't think you won't get your money, if you mean that."

        "I haven't suggested anything of the kind. I see that your accounts have always been promptly settled. But I thought you ought to know how much you were running up. Do you mean that this Mr Weyleigh will settle the bill?"

        "You can ring him up if you like. But if he didn't, and it's only about fifty pounds, I've got enough in my own bank, so you needn't worry. But I'll tell her not to buy anything more."

        "I didn't ask you to do that," the cashier replied, but there was still a doubt in her voice, and Laura thought it best to reply shortly: "Well, I shall anyway."

        Actually, she felt relief that she had an excuse for stopping the buying bout. She remembered that the money in her bank was being slowly accumulated toward the requirements of what she had supposed to be an approaching marriage. So she hoped it might still be, but even if all were still well between herself and Leonard, it wouldn't be advanced by the money being spent for this stranger's clothes, and if Leonard had to pay it, it would be a distinction with no difference at all.

        She was glad to go back to her angelic companion and tell her that further credit could not be taken, which Elya heard with her usual good humour, only looking to see how two pounds in cash could be spent before leaving the shop.

        When they were in the street again, and had called a taxi, and a large number of cardboard boxes had been brought down and packed into it, she watched Elya settle herself in such space as remained, but did not join her. She gave Leonard's address to the driver, and said pleasantly to Elya: "No, I'm not coming back with you. Why should I? And, besides, I've got another appointment. I've done all that I was asked. I expect we shall be meeting again."

        "Elya said: "Yes, I'm sure we shall," which was hardly what she would have preferred to hear, but it seemed likely.

Chapter 7

Flirtation On A New Plane.

        The taxi disappeared in the traffic of Regent street, and Laura went to a call-box. She rang up Leonard. She spoke without asperity, but as one who was entitled to an explanation which she intended to get. She said: "Well, I've just put Elya, or whatever you call her, into a taxi, and sent her back to you, as it seems to be where she belongs, or at any rate that's her idea of how the land lies. I've bought her about sixty pounds worth of flimsies, and dressing gowns, and other things. She's bringing them all along, so you'll be able to go over them with her in the next hour. By the way, you'll need someone to help carry the boxes upstairs, unless you're going to leave it to her. And you may like to know that she says that she stole everything she's got on during the last night at Bent & Westley's. She also said she'd turned into a flea because the price tickets were still on, so you may believe as much as you like. But if she came to you as a client I should say you'll have a busy time, and a very useful lot of publicity thrown in..... She didn't? Then I should like to know how she did. But anyway I should think that you'll soon be making enough money to marry someone, though I'm not sure who it's going to be. I don't think Elya would object to bigamy in the least, but I might. And, by the way, she wouldn't buy any cosmetics. She didn't seem interested. She's genuine so far. I'll give her that. But what else she is, heaven may know, but I don't. But for that the bill might have been a hundred pounds, instead of sixty, and if I heard you say, "Oh, the devil!" when I told you this first, I should like to know what you expected to hear.... Oh, and did I tell you she spent the two pounds, so you'd better slip out, and pawn something, or you'll have nothing for cigarettes, though I shouldn't say that she smokes, but if you're taking her out for dinner I should say that you're in for a good bill. I can find all the sixty, but what I thought was that we might go half and half. You see - "

        She was silenced at last by the exasperation of her fiancé's voice. "Laura, will you let me give you a few facts before you say any more things that you don't mean. I don't know the woman from Adam, or, anyway, I don't know her from Eve. We happened to be at the same table at Bustard's, and she threw herself onto me, saying that she had just got to London without money, and I haven't the least idea who she is, or where from, and I don't think she cares tuppence for me, except for any use I can be to her. I gave her two pounds out of charity, and I didn't mean to go beyond that. It was you who talked about putting things down to an account, and now it sounds as though I shall have to pay."

        "Only two pounds and nothing beyond that? And I suppose I'm to understand that it's my fault that she's spent more. What about saying you were putting here up for the night? How far did you think forty shillings would go with a girl like her? It's just a case of forty shillings and costs. And costs are about sixty pounds. A lawyer'd say that's about right, wouldn't he? You ought to know."

        "Laura do talk sense. The question is where did she really come from. She may have had no money yesterday, but what about the week, or the year, before? She wasn't brought to what she is now without someone's cheque book having a good deal to do. I thought you'd find out all about her. It was a woman's work rather than mine. And, of course, not spend anything till you were sure about what you did."

        "I should have thought it was a lawyer's work rather than mine. Anyway, it was something I couldn't do. I only learnt that she'd stolen her clothes, and been a dog and a flea, and never told a lie in her life. It's you and I who do that. We scarcely ever stop. And you'll be glad to hear that she's going to get some money from somewhere, and pay the bill.... But I won't keep you talking longer. She'll be with you in next to no time. You'd better boil the kettle, and make some tea."

        As she said this, she rang off, before he could have time to reply, which she knew would madden him more than anything she could say, even if she'd had more time to think what he wouldn't like it to be.

        But Leonard was too occupied with the immediate problem to have much thought, even for her. He knew that his mistake had been in inviting this foreign woman ( but was she foreign? He couldn't be sure, even of that ) to occupy his friend's rooms, which he had strictly no right to do. Not being aware of her celestial origin, he couldn't console himself with the thought that he had been worsted by forces which a mortal man could not expect to resist successfully, nor would there have been much consolation in that. He was beset by the practical question - even if she should settle down quietly for the night with the many purchases she had made, what was to follow on the next day? He felt convinced that she would not walk out of his life as easily as she had walked in. He wasn't even sure that he would be content for her to do so. That was the core of his trouble. He didn't want her either to walk out or stay in. He wasn't willing to admit to himself that he was disloyal to Laura. He was sure that he loved her as well as ever. But the complication remained. Laura had said that Elya wouldn't object to bigamy. However that might be as a matter of fact, the remark showed that she realised the mess that they were in, and in much the same way that it looked to him. But, under all - or perhaps it should be before all - there was the question of what she was, from where she had come, and what was the background which she must surely have had? If he could get her to tell him that in any sensible, credible way, he might see the way out of the fog in which he was moving now.

        And while he was engaged on such thoughts as these, Elya came up the stairs, and entered the room without knocking, which may have been a social custom which she had omitted to learn.

        Her arms were laden, and she was followed by a taxi driver who was far more heavily burdened than she. She said gaily: "I can't think why you have stairs. Surely the Earth's large enough for you to all live on the ground. Leonard, you'd better come down with me, and we can bring up the rest. This man feels just as I do about the stairs."

        Leonard's thoughts began: "I think you're about the cheekiest bitch -," but their eyes met, and what he said was: "I shouldn't think there could be much more," and next moment he was following Elya down the stairs, as he had been ordered to do.

        He got the remaining boxes out of the vehicle. He searched nearly empty pockets to pay the driver. He led a burdened way up the stairs. He looked back to say: "Hadn't we better take them straight up to your own room? And was disconcerted by the reply: "No, I want you to see them first, and tell me what I've bought wrong." He said no more, and turned into his own room. Perhaps it would be best to take it all in a casual impersonal way.

        Elya was never short of words, she had learnt the language too completely for that. She talked as she unpacked, requiring his opinion on all he saw. He admired hairbrushes. He approved combs. He said that hair nets were undoubtedly all that could be desired. He said that it was the most beautiful dressing gown he had ever seen, which was literally true. Yes, he had no doubt it was very beautiful soap. "I had to stop the taxi," she explained, "and get that from another shop."

        "Oh, and this is what I really want to ask you," she said at last. "It's between the transparent and the opaque. I want to know what I'd better wear for the night."

        She produced primrose pyjamas, and a night gown, faintly rose-coloured, which could have been crushed in one hand. She said: "It's queer that people wear things you can see through when there's no one there, and thick things in the day. Or perhaps," she added more thoughtfully, "perhaps it isn't. Perhaps I ought to wear these if I stay upstairs, and that if I come down to you."

        "It wouldn't be any good if you did. I always lock up at night."

        "You mean you ought to come up to me? I ought to have thought of that."

        "No. I wasn't thinking of that."

        "Well, it doesn't matter. We can see how they look now."

        As she spoke, she began to loosen her clothes. He said hastily: "No, please don't. You really mustn't do that here. Anyone might come in."

        She gave him an astonished, outraged glance, such as he had never seen in her eyes before. She said: "Can't you ever tell the truth? As though you couldn't lock the door! Don't you want to see what I'm like? It's about the vilest, rudest thing you could possibly say."

        "I didn't mean to be rude," he replied awkwardly, "it's just that you come from a country where they have different customs. It's not usual here."

        "I believe," she said, with recovered equanimity, "you could tell lies in your sleep..... But there's something else I want to ask you. I want to get hold of some money. What's the best way to do that?"

        "It depends upon your qualifications. You'd better tell me what you did before you came here, and then I might be able to help."

        Elya, as we know, when she had some clear purpose, was by no means a fool. She suppressed the first reply which came to her mind, and said, with literal truth: "The last thing I did was to learn languages. I think I told you about that before."

        "You told me that you knew Chinese and Spanish and French and Russian. If you really know them half as well as you do English, you might make money by teaching them, if you care to do so."

        "Half as well? I don't know what you mean. I just know them."

        "You may think you do, but it isn't likely that you know them all equally well. Indeed, it isn't a possible thing. You couldn't speak English as you do unless you'd been among English-speaking people for a long while."

        "You're quite sure of that? Then I won't tell you it isn't true. But you've got to believe that I know the other languages just the same, or how can you tell me what it's best for me to do?"

        "The we'll agree about that; and if you mislead me you mustn't blame me for anything that goes wrong. But if you've got an ordinary knowledge of all the languages you mention you might get a fairly high salary as a teacher at a school of languages. If you know any of them, or at least Chinese or Russian, as thoroughly as you know English, you might make a good deal more by giving private tuition."

        "Very well, then. I'll do that."

        "You'd have to be prepared to tell a straightforward tale as to how you learnt them to that extent, or you might not be believed."

        "You mean I've got to make something up? I should think you could help me to do that. Or perhaps Laura would be better than you..... I don't want to be rude, but you must know which of you's the better at a good lie."

        "But I shouldn't advise you to do that. You might get into serious trouble. Why not tell the truth for a change?"

        "Because, if you don't believe me, it's not likely that anyone else would."

        "We won't go over all that again. There's a sixty pound bill to be paid, and if you're serious about this I'll give you the best help I can. My father happens to be in the Foreign Office, and if you like to come down to Godalming with me, he may know of someone - say someone who's got an appointment in the Diplomatic Service - who'd pay well for some good coaching in the language he's got to talk in a month's time."

        "I expect that's a good plan. Is it far to go?"

        "We can get there in an hour or two by rail; and, if you like, we'll come back by car."

        "Yes, I should.... And if I pay all the sixty pounds, may I show you how I look in the night-gown when I've done that?"

        "Perhaps we'd better talk about that when the time comes," he answered weakly.

        "You know you're just putting it off. Suppose Laura does it as well? Will that make it all right?"

        "You'd better ask Laura what she thinks about that."

        "So I will. When we're in the train."

        "You think Laura's coming to Godalming?"

        "She wouldn't like being left behind."

        Leonard thought Elya might be right about that.

Chapter 8

Liveliness At Godalming.

        Elya went upstairs at last, and Leonard decided to ring Laura up (as was a nightly custom) and inform her of what had happened and been arranged.

        He told her almost literally everything which had been said, which gave some measure of relief to an anxious mind. His only deliberate omission was Elya's suggestion that Laura might like to exhibit herself for competition in a rival nightgown. He hoped that there was no disloyalty to her in recognising that it was not a contest she would have been likely to win; and that the idea of it would not be gladly received.

        He felt that all was well till he came to the projected Godalming expedition, when he got a cold retort: "I can't see why you can't enquire without taking her there."

        "But he had an answer to that. "You see, Laura, the Governor knows more than a bit about one or two of those languages himself, and I want him to make sure that she won't let us down. You know what a liar she is, and it isn't sense to suppose she knows them all equally well. I shouldn't have risked it at all if I hadn't been so anxious to get hold of the sixty pounds.... Oh, by the way, she asked if you could come along."

        "She did what?"

        "Asked if you could come."

        "I wonder what she's up to now.... Yes, I think I will."

        "Then what about the ten-forty-five tomorrow? Gets us in comfortably before lunch."

        "That'll suit me, dear. Wonder if she'll say she's never been in a train before."

        "I shouldn't think she'd be quite such a fool as that."

        "Then she hasn't said as much to you as she did to me."

        The conversation ended at that, and Leonard got into bed ( as he had been ready to do ), and was up early enough next morning to be dressed when Elya rattled the knob of a locked door.

        "Slept well?" he asked politely, as she came in, radiantly calm, and bringing a perfume she had shown him the night before.

        "Yes, I did. Isn't it a queer thing? And now I know what a dream's like. I dreamed I was back where I belong, and it made me see what a fool I am."

        "I don't think I should call you that. But I might understand you better if you said where it really was."

        "Suppose we talk about breakfast instead."

        "A Mrs Hawkins will be here in about twenty minutes. She gets breakfast for me, and puts the place straight."

        "I suppose you've got plenty for two?"

        "Possibly. But don't you think it will look better if you have it in your own room?"

        "No, I don't. Wouldn't it look as though we'd quarrelled if anyone thought about it? But why should they? There isn't any law against it, is there?"

        "No, it isn't illegal."

        "I suppose you know all the laws?"

        "No. Nobody could."

        "Then how can you tell that there isn't one about having breakfast?"

        "Because it would be too absurd."

        "Which must mean that it's not the wrong thing to do..... I suppose you have so many laws so no-one can know them all, and they keep getting broken, and you get money for that?"

        "It isn't quite that simple, but it works out that way often enough."

        "I should think it must.... What do you do while Mrs Hawkins is cleaning the room? You must swallow a lot of dust."

        "What made you think of that?"

        "I'm always thinking of things. I think of lots that I don't say. I just like to know."

        "I sit here while she gets breakfast in the kitchen. She's in there, or doing my bedroom, while I have breakfast, and then I go into the bedroom, while she's in here."

        "Well I can do the same. I only hope she won't be long. I've been hungry all the time since I came here."

        "Did you get more to eat in your own country?"

        "It was different. We ate like pigs. I know that's the right thing to say, but I don't know what it means. How do pigs eat? Not that it matters. We ate all we could get inside us when a star - But you wouldn't understand that. You'd say that we ate about twice a year. I'm glad I've not got to wait now. I think Mrs Hawkins is coming up."

        This proved to be right, and the lady mentioned, entering next moment, would have retired on seeing one whom she supposed to be a client occupying the room, but on Leonard saying hastily: "Mrs Hawkins, this is a lady who's using Mr Bentley's room while he's away. I've asked her to have breakfast with me, as I didn't suppose she'd find much left there. Can you scrape up enough for two?"

        Mrs Hawkins, a small spare woman, lifted her head, pushed back some wisps of sandy-grey hair from her forehead, and gazed intently upon the angelic vision. She said: "Well I shalln't tell him. I'm always a good sport," and finding that this remark was received in silence, she had no doubt that she had understood and accepted the position in a wisely tolerant way. She added that there would be plenty for two, which Elya was glad to hear.

        But she soon heard that there was to be a time limit to what she ate, for Leonard said that he must visit his bank to get the money which would be required for the train journey, and other purposes, which led to a number of curiously elementary and yet penetrating questions regarding the nature, functions, and management of banks, during which Leonard admitted a doubt which had been on the threshold of his mind more than once before. Was it possible that Elya's professed ignorance was something more - or less - than a pose? If it were not genuine, it was so detailed, so elaborate a pretence. Accustomed to cross-examine, and judge veracity, he recognised that she was consistent in all she said, and had a convincing aspect of a candour - only excepting the fantastic foundation on which she built. Had he erred in too ready assumption that this foundation was no more than a blatant lie? He resolved to ask his father's opinion, being a judgement on which he had learnt that he could very safely rely.

        They took a taxi to the bank, and then went straight on to Victoria station. Elya said it was all new to her, which her continual curiosity supported, but her coolness made hard to believe. They arrived without incident, and Leonard having telephoned before starting, they were met by one of his father's cars.

        They drove through a picturesque village, to a country manor which stood in its own well-wooded grounds, and were welcomed pleasantly by Sir Andrew Weyleigh, a man as dark and lean, but somewhat taller than his son, and looking ten years younger than the fifty-nine during which he had endured, with gentlemanly toleration the trouble of mortal life.

        He was a widower, without other children than Leonard, and his sole interest in life, when away from Downing street, was in his garden and home. He was now taking a summer vacation in the way that he preferred, by spending it in his own grounds. He was glad to welcome his son, and any friends whom he might bring, especially Laura, she being a choice he approved.

        Laura took Elya up to a room which she used when visiting there, and which was called hers, while Leonard, joining his father in the library below, took the opportunity to explain something of the strange woman who, in the last twenty-four hours, had fixed herself so firmly upon him.

        "It sounds," Sir Andrew said, "as though it's your fault for having offered to put her up, which you'd no business to do. I shouldn't have thought that any girl could have put it across you as slick as that. She ought to be worth seeing. But as to the languages, she's stringing you along more likely than not, and that's where I may be able to give you a leg up."

        After that, they went in to lunch, and as he seated Elya at his right hand, he had his own moment of wonder, not that Leonard had been subdued, but that the serenity of her eyes could conceal the adventuress which he had confidently assumed her to be.

        He resolved to keep the talk to indifferent topics until the meal should be at its concluding stages, seeing the awkwardness which must result if he should convict their guest of deceit at an earlier time, but he found that it was not easy to do. Any subject might excite Elya's lively curiosity, and then expose ignorance - if it were genuine - abysmal and unashamed.

        And then, when the talk wandered to the cultivation of his one two-acre arable field, she broke into the conversation with the exclamation: "Oh, I learnt all about that!", and showed a knowledge of artificial manures far surpassing his own.

        When he felt the time had come for the language test, he said: "I am told that you know Spanish thoroughly?" And when she said yes to this, he addressed her at once in Russian, and was answered at equal speed in the same tongue.

        Recognising that this trap had failed, and being unable to test her in the Asian tongue, he asked, with increased respect: "You know Chinese equally?"

        "Yes. I just know it."

        "And you can write it also?"

        "Yes. I learnt that at the same time."

        "Do you mind telling me where and when?"

        "I don't mind. But I can't get anyone to believe."

        "Have you tried many times?"

        "No. I only began yesterday. I see what you mean. I might find others have got more sense."

        "Yes. I might have worded it differently, but I meant that. I think that I might believe, if you should tell me a true tale. Will you do that?"

        "Yes, of course. I was an angel till yesterday. Then I came here to have a look round. I like being a girl best, but I can be other things if I choose. I've been a dog and a flea."

        "Would you mind being one or other again for a few minutes, so that no one could disbelieve?"

        "I'd rather be something else for a change."

        "That sounds fair enough. Within limits, of course. It wouldn't do to be a bad-tempered tiger; and an elephant might be bad for the chairs."

        "Yes. I see that. Perhaps I'd better go on being a flea.... But I don't want to get crushed. I'd soon show you, if you could guarantee that."

        "It is a most reasonable stipulation. Suppose we say this: I will lay my hand, palm down, on the table, and you shall get on it, and give it two bites. I will keep my other hand down, and all the others will do the same. Would that give you time to change back if you should be frightened, or only enough for a good jump?"

        "That would be safe enough. I should have lots of time to change back before I could get hit."

        "Then that's how it shall be, and we shall all be grateful if you'll show us what you can do."

        As he spoke, he laid his clenched hand, knuckles upward, upon the table, from which all other hands disappeared, and next moment the fascinated spectators, including a butler behind his chair, saw her clothes collapse in emptiness on her seat, and then slip sideways on to the floor. Then, on the back of Sir Andrew's hand, there was the small brown body for which they looked. The hand remained motionless while the tiny body swelled with the blood it drew. Then it hopped an inch, gave a brief nip, and was gone.

        All eyes were turned from the bitten hand to the empty chair, expecting, half fearfully, that the sagging clothes would be rounded again by an inward form. But nothing happened. Elya had gone; but did she mean to return? It seemed that the visiting angel had withdrawn contemptuously from an incredulous world. Leonard was aware of a sharp regret; and even Laura felt that she would have chosen a different end.

Chapter 9

Elya Has Her Own Way.

        For some minutes the three who remained seated round the table gazed silently at the empty chair. Then they were conscious of a scuffling movement beneath them, at which the butler stooped down to look under the table. Was it Elya about to show herself in a new form?

        But Beddoes gave a different explanation. "I'm afraid, sir," he said, "the cat's got into the room."

        He opened the door to eject an animal to which he knew his master had a nervous antipathy, and they soon saw a black streak darting through it.

        "Didn't it," Laura asked, "have something - perhaps a mouse - in its mouth?"

        Leonard said: "No, it was larger than that. More like a young rat."

        "You don't think Elya could have made some mistake, and got caught?"

        "She's always seemed very well able to take care of herself," he answered, with more confidence in the words than the tone in which they were spoken.

        His father asked: "Aren't you taking it a bit too seriously? I should call it the cleverest conjuring trick that I ever saw."

        "I don't know what to believe," his son answered doubtfully. "The flea-bites look real enough."

        Sir Andrew admitted that, in a fair but still sceptical mind. He said the language claim had seemed to be genuine too. "But I expect she's laughing at how she's tricked us, and you won't be much older before you'll see her again, and I only hope she'll tell us how it was done."

        He was right on one point at least, for as he spoke she entered the room.

        She came in serenely, in the form which it may be convenient to regard as that of her real self, and exhibiting its slender well-rounded loveliness in the rose-coloured transparency about which she had been so annoyingly thwarted before. She walked past the astonished butler to her own seat, from which she pushed the clothes which were not already upon the floor, and looked round with the smile of triumph appropriate to the event.

        "I think," she said complaisantly, "I've done rather well. When I found how sharp my teeth were, I was dreadfully afraid of getting it torn."

        "You are asking us to believe," Sir Andrew queried sceptically, "that you were the cat that ran out of the room?"

        "Yes, of course. I should have thought anyone would have seen that. If I hadn't gone out of the room, how could I have come back?"

        There was a simple logic about this argument which even Sir Andrew felt to be too strong to attack. He said: "Well, perhaps it will save trouble if we agree to take it all in, till you deal us the cards in another way. But don't you think you would be warmer in your clothes than as you are now?"

        "I don't mind either way now. But Leonard was so rude that I made up my mind not to let him off. I think he's annoyed that Laura's figure isn't equal to mine."

        "I don't know anything about Leonard being rude," Sir Andrew replied firmly, "but someone is certainly being rude now. We all know that Laura has an excellent figure, and you must forgive me saying that she will make him a much better wife than you would be likely to do."

        "I don't see how we could settle that, unless we both try. Three months each might be about right, and Laura can say whether she'll take the first turn. You can't want anything fairer than that."

        "I think you may find that Leonard's choice is already made, and on a more permanent basis than you forecast. But as we are all finished, I propose that we shall withdraw, and leave you here to resume your clothes.... Beddoes, the clearing of the table must be deferred."

        He turned to Elya again as he rose, to say: "We are retiring to the library, where you will doubtless join us when you are ready. The door is slightly to the left, on the other side of the hall."

        A minute later he was saying: "She's the cleverest conjurer that I ever saw. I can't even guess how it was done. But the less you see of her the better. You've had twenty-four hours now, and if you live a hundred years I don't suppose you'll want any more. A woman without the most elementary decency - ! If she thinks I'm going to recommend her to any friend of mine after that exhibition, she'll find she's made a bad guess."

        "Oh, but, Sir Andrew," Laura exclaimed in dismay, "don't you see what a hole we shall be in if you don't? You're forgetting my sixty pounds."

        "I'd rather pay it myself. I'm not going to recommend a woman who's liable to get out of her clothes any moment she feels like it. There might be such a scandal that I should have to resign."

        Leonard said: "I don't think there'd be any danger of that. It would be too difficult to believe. But don't you think we might get her to promise to behave properly? She says she never told a lie in her life."

        "Which is the biggest one anyone can possibly tell. I'll tell you how far I'm prepared to go, though it's against my own judgement, and -" But whatever he might have said they were not destined to hear, for at that moment Elya entered the room.

        She gave Sir Andrew a dazzling smile, and addressed him with her usual directness.

        "I suppose you think I look better now I've got back into the clothes. It's about the best joke that I ever heard. But it was a very nice lunch, though I could have eaten rather more than I had. Leonard said he didn't want to be late back, so perhaps you'd better tell me now whom I'm to teach, and how much money I'm to get."

        "I've been thinking that, with your exceptional qualifications, you might do better by opening a language school. You could advertise at first, and you'd soon have such testimonials that - "

        "Do you think that, being a foreigner she'd be allowed - ?" Leonard interposed, seeing it from the legal angle, as he was likely to do.

        "Yes, It's not like acting. They let foreigners teach their own gabble."

        "But she might have to prove her nationality, and produce her papers."

        "It's not a matter which is dealt with in my department. It's a Home Office affair; but that sounds likely enough. There shouldn't be any difficulty about it. She'd have to stop play-acting with them."

        "Suppose she really hasn't got any."

        "That's absurd. How would she have landed here?.... Unless, of course, she's English, in which case we're worrying about nothing."

        "I've told you I'm an angel," Elya interposed. "You tell so many lies yourselves that you never believe anything. I know what you mean by papers, and of course I haven't got any. But I don't want to open a school. I'd rather take on one at a time, and finish teaching him first. I thought of two hundred pounds for one language, or twice as much for a stupid man."

        But this simple method of charging roused a chorus of criticism.

        Laura said: "I don't think you'd get anyone to pay that."

        "If he said he hadn't finished learning," Leonard objected, "you might have to go on for ever."

        "If you put it that way," Sir Andrew prophesied, "you wouldn't have much chance of being offered a higher fee."

        "You can tell me the best way to charge," she agreed readily. "But I'm not going to start a school. What I'd really like is a man who makes laws, and while I taught him I could tell him a few to try. I might do a lot of good."

        "If I advise you," Sir Andrew began, "that a school would be best - "

        "I've told you I don't want a school," she interrupted, in the tone of one who was being patient with a difficult child, "I think you're trying to get out of what you were going to do, and if that's it, I should like to know why."

        Leonard said: "I don't think my father has any doubt that you could teach the languages, but he may wonder whether you'd do or say anything else."

        "You mean turning into something I shouldn't be? But why should I? I had to before I could get the clothes that you fuss about all the time. I shouldn't have done it just now if I hadn't been asked, so it isn't sense to complain about that. I shall not do anything of the kind."

        "Perhaps, if you promise that -," Sir Andrew began, but was interrupted by: "I wasn't promising. I was just telling the truth."

        He paused to consider this, and then said: "It is a narrow distinction, but very real. You may be surprised to know that it gives me more confidence than I was feeling before. I will do this. I will give you letters of introduction to the Chinese and Russian Embassies, and if they tell me that you know their languages as thoroughly as I am disposed to believe, I think, between us, we shall be able to find you something to do; and I shall rely on you not to play any conjuring tricks that would let me down."

Chapter 10

Elya Makes Plans.

        When lunch was over, Leonard asked his father for the loan of one of the cars, and was surprised by a momentary hesitation, which he had not expected. "The fact is," he added, "I promised to give Elya a ride back to town whenever I brought her here."

        "The fact is," Sir Andrew answered, "I may want to send the Bentley in for an overhaul any day now, but I wouldn't refuse you the other because of that. What I wish is that you'd got another reason for wanting it. You've only known your angel, if that's what we're to call her ( but how do you know that she hasn't come from the other place? ), for about twenty-four hours, and you seem to have got over a good deal of ground in that time, in more senses than one. But if you've promised, I don't want to let you down. She evidently knows what a car is. I shouldn't have been surprised if she'd said that she never saw one in her life before."

        "That was just what she did. But she saw them when she looked out of Bustard's window. She said she thought everyone must be mad, and if there were an accident they all ought to be taken off the road at once."

        "And then she wants to get into one herself on the next day? Well that's how we mostly are. There are lots of us who eat mutton and wouldn't be willing to kill a sheep. The girls ought to be ready in half an hour. ( I wonder what she talks about when she gets Laura alone). I'll tell Reeves to have the Morris ready for you by then."

        The girls were not ready in half an hour. It was more than that. But the time came when Elya shook hands with her host with a charming smile, ( "I think you've been kinder than I deserved."), and surveyed the Morris saloon with approving, but yet questioning eyes.

        Then she turned to Leonard to say: "I suppose Laura can drive, and we'd better sit in the back."

        "No. I prefer to do my own driving."

        "It won't be much fun sitting in front while you're doing that."

        "We can agree there. You'd better sit in the back with Laura. I like to concentrate on the road."

        "Yes. You ought to. You might run over a dog. I shouldn't like that. I should think that it might have been me."

        She appeared oblivious of the curtness with which the offer of her society had been rebuffed, and went on serenely: "I don't mind if Laura isn't with you. I like talking to her. She knows lots of things that I don't, and she's better tempered now she's going to get paid, and I'm going to see other men, and not only you. I've told her it's about over for you; and I expect Sir Andrew was right about her making a good wife.... She can't help being a bad shape. You ought always to think of that. I should say you'd better kiss in the dark." She became aware that Laura was standing beside her, and turned to her without embarrassment. "Laura, I've been telling Leonard how to manage when you get married, so that he won't be thinking of me.... I'm getting into the back with you."

        The next hour was spent in discussion of the amenities of the home they had just left, which Elya approved. She showed a detailed exactness in memory of what she had seen, which she contrasted with the comparative austerities of the chambers in which she had spent the previous night. She expressed a resolve that she would charge sufficient for the language lessons to enable her to live in the same style.

        Laura said: "You didn't act as though anything had been new to you."

        "I didn't say that it was. I'd learnt about it, but seeing's quite different. I mean to have a coal fire, and a bearskin rug."

        "Well, I should think you might manage that, even without vamping anyone more than it seems natural for you to do."

        "I don't vamp anyone," Elya replied equably. "What misleads you is that I'm always natural and sincere. You don't understand my doing what you don't practise yourselves.... But as for Leonard, who seems to be the only man in the world for you (which seems queer, when you look at how full of men the streets are) you'll like to know that I've no more use for him, and I think that he feels the same about me. But I've told you that, or something like it, a few minutes ago."

        Laura gave her no thanks for this assurance. She may have felt that none was due, even though she had believed more than she did. She asked bluntly: "What are you going to do tonight?"

        "I'm going back to my room, unless Leonard gets sulky, and locks me out. Or I suppose, as your Mr Bentley's sister, you could do that. But I expect to get somewhere else tomorrow."

        Laura made no comment on that. She didn't see how it was to be done, but she certainly didn't intend to be the one to propose difficulties. She thought even one more night of propinquity would be more than she wished Leonard to have; especially as she had an engagement for the evening which it would be difficult to break. But that also was best un-mentioned.

        Yet she need not have vexed her mind. Elya, with the sincerity she professed, had said exactly what she intended to do. Although she and Leonard had a meal together before returning to his chambers, he found her to be as impersonally distant as at their first encounter. She was not cold, but neutral, in an atmosphere which most women would have found hard to sustain, but which was easy to her.

        She withdrew at an early hour to the solitude of Mr Bentley's bed, but she was not quick to sleep. She lay awake for some hours, and was quite unworried by that. Indeed, on the previous night, she had been puzzled and warily cautious of the hiatus of sleep and dreams which she knew to be natural to her adopted existence; but experience is a different matter.

        Men abandon consciousness as a routine event. The idea of unsleeping life would seem to many of them to be an abnormal or impossible thing. Yet sleep is not a necessity of recuperation, even to the creatures of Earth. Many birds sleep much through the dark months, but little, if at all, in the summer nights. Many creatures, such as sharks, do not sleep at all.

        Elya saw that, while she elected to be a woman, her body must behave as a woman's does; but she did not fret at her wakeful hours.

        In the quietude of the night, she reviewed her two days of humanity, and decided that she had made a good start. She thought that she was going to have - and had had already - a most enjoyable time. But it remained that the day's events were no more than an episode that she intended to leave behind. She had done with Leonard. She was not sure how he felt about her. But Laura could have him. Now that she was a woman, she found that she was longing for men. Probably it was inevitable. Anyway it was likely to be good fun.

        But she did not want Leonard now. She probably never would have given him two amorous thoughts if he had not first thrust himself upon her, and then pretended that he didn't want to see her properly, so that his insincerity had roused her disgust, and his rudeness had stirred her ire. But Laura must do for him. She would be engaged in the stalking of higher game.

        She was resolved that the next day should not pass without her acquiring a home of her own, and considered how this could be done. She had a wide knowledge of the life around her, and the routines that it required. She had supposed this to be comprehensive, until she had learnt that its innumerable details were incomplete, and that it was practised in bewilderingly illogical ways. She must review each step in advance, lest she stumble to her own discomfiture.

        There was this silly question of names. She knew that if she applied for a flat or house and said that her name was Elya, they would require additions, in the absence of which she would almost certainly be rebuffed. What should she do about that? In the regions from which she came, everyone had had one name, neither more nor less, which was the sensible way. Or, at least - She was fair enough to recognise one of the differences arising from the fact that these people had only temporary existences. They must distinguish ancestry and children from themselves. Anyway, a surname was a necessity here. What could be done? The impish humour which had betrayed her to censure in the heavenly courts proposed an audacity beyond anything she had yet done. She had suggested Fitz-Gabriel once before, but seen that Leonard thought that there was something wrong about that. What about Gabriel? Miss Elya Gabriel had a satisfactory sound. As to what Gabriel would say when it should come to his knowledge, as it was almost certain to do, even her lively imagination could not conceive. But it would be a past event, and even an archangel could not alter that! Miss Elya Gabriel it should be.

        Then there was the question of references. Even though she should have money (which was not yet in her bag) she knew that they were likely to be required.

        She thought first of Leonard, with a rather narrow, scrupulous mind. He would be likely to write in a cautious way, which might be misunderstood - or perhaps understood would be the more accurate word. What about Laura? She had learnt that Miss Bentley lived with her mother, who was of the highest respectability. Laura wanted her to leave. And she was a woman. If she wanted anything, she wouldn't let a little matter, such as writing a reference, block the way. And then how furious she would be!

        The thought of Laura's fury settled the matter. Laura it should most certainly be. But for a second? Inspiration came. Leonard's father had a sense of humour. And (although he ought not to have talked about conjuring tricks) he had understood her far better than any other inhabitant of this planet whom she had met. Then he was already committed to getting her some teaching engagements. Could he do this, and deny that she was fitted to rent a home? And she felt that he might actually enjoy being used in that audacious manner. The thought of his appreciation was as potent as that of Laura's fury in deciding that it should be.

        Having arranged these matters to her satisfaction, she went to sleep with a quiet mind.

Chapter 11

Elya Has A Full Day.

        Mrs Hawkins had finished laying the breakfast, and Leonard was wondering whether he should start by himself, or send her up to announce it, before Elya appeared, and then it was in a dressing gown which may have had something underneath it, but not much.

        She said: "I'm later than I was yesterday, but I went on sleeping. It doesn't matter to me, because I can't go out till your father telephones to say what he's fixed up; but I shall have lots to do after that."

        "I hope you won't want to be here after ten. I've got to be in court by ten-thirty, and I shall need to have a short conference before that."

        "You mean you wouldn't like leaving me here?"

        "I mean it would be awkward about locking up."

        "Then why not leave it unlocked? No one would be likely to come. Nobody'd know."

        "I should not care to do that."

        "Then I shall have to be a flea again, and get through the key-hole.... I'd meant to give that kind of thing up, because everyone seems to think it's a bit queer."

        "I wouldn't say bit's the word. But I don't think it would do, even if you could really manage that way. What about your clothes?"

        "That's easy. I should take them off first, and put them outside the door."

        "You mean you'd dress on the stairs?"

        "Yes. Why not?"

        "Someone might come up."

        "They'd get over it quite easily, if they did."

        "Well, it wouldn't do."

        "Then I could carry them up, and dress in my own room."

        "We shall have to think of something better than that."

        "Then I'll bring you the key in court. I should like that. If you shouldn't be sure what the law is, I might be able to help you with an idea."

        "I'm afraid that wouldn't be any use. If I can't persuade the judge what the law is, he'll settle it in his own way. He wouldn't listen to you."

        "Oh, he would, if I spoke loud. I can promise you that. I've noticed people do listen to me."

        "Well, I'd much rather you don't come. I think we shall have to leave together. You must telephone my father from somewhere else."

        "I'm not going to do that without any reason at all. I can bring my things down here before you go, and lock up that room, and give you the key, and then I can lock this when I go out, and put the key through the door, and you can get it when you come back."

        "Yes. I suppose that will do."

        "You needn't say it in that tone. Of course, it will. If you can't think out little things like that, it's no wonder the laws get muddled."

        "Actually, I don't make the laws."

        "No. I expect you just tangle them up."

        "You're not being very polite this morning."

        "I didn't mean to be rude. I was just thinking aloud. You've been very nice to me. And I've got to ask you to lend me another pound. I shall pay them all back tonight."

        "Yes. I can do that."

        The note changed hands, and as breakfast was now finished, Elya went up to her own room at once, and came down dressed for the street, and with the key in her hand.

        Leonard went, and she waited idly until the telephone rang. She picked it up, with the thought: "Why do men have these clumsy wires? But it wouldn't be any use to say anything." And then: "Yes, Sir Andrew. Elya speaking.... Oh, you are a dear! I knew you'd do it.... Yes, of course I understand that.... No, if you tell me the addresses, I shan't forget. Why should I? There's no need to write them down.... Yes, there'll be lots of time. I'm glad it's not later. I've got to find a home for myself after lunch. Laura's giving me a reference. And I'm using your name as well. I shouldn't have mentioned that except that you'll have to know that I've got two names. I'm Elya Gabriel. You know that I couldn't get anything without that.... I don't believe you're a bit pleased. I thought you'd do more for Laura than that..... Well, it is. She wants me to get away from Leonard. And I know there's a law about sleeping all night in the streets. I don't supposed anyone knows why. But how could I go on teaching Chinese while I was in jail for that?.... Well, if it were a fine? I don't suppose Laura would find the money. And I'm sure Leonard doesn't want to find any more. You must see that a reference is the best way."

        "You are a very enterprising young woman. I daresay I can say something for you, if you'll promise me that you won't do anything freakish.... But if you told me the truth yesterday, when you said that you could turn into a flea, I don't see why you couldn't get out of jail without troubling Leonard."

        "But I should have thought that anyone could see that! I couldn't carry all my clothes about on a flea's back. And think how far I might have to hop to get back to Leonard. And if I jumped on anyone he might be going the wrong way."

        "They are most logical arguments. But we'd better stop talking, or you'll be late for your first appointment."

        "Yes, I needn't have said all that. But you do have such wild ideas. I'll let you know how I get on."

        But Sir Andrew did not wait to have a report from her. He was sufficiently curious to ring up the Chinese Embassy after lunch. He expected only to speak to one of the secretaries, but was put through to the ambassador, who wished to thank him personally for the celestial presence who had been directed to him. He had satisfied himself that Elya had never been in China. It was common sense that no English woman could have acquired a knowledge of the language so complete and idiomatic without prolonged residence there - and most improbable, even then. He always believed in accepting the simplest and most probable explanation. He had no doubt that Elya came from the skies.

        Recognising that a perfect teacher requires the fullest knowledge of both languages concerned, and being satisfied that her command of English was equal to that of his own tongue, he had engaged her to give advanced lessons in the latter language to some of his own staff. Naturally, she had required to be highly paid. There was a faint, though very courteous, hint that there might even have been a little difficulty about that. Her request for a substantial sum in advance had also been a little unusual. But lack of mundane experience may both explain and excuse. He had given her fifteen pounds.

        Satisfied of the success of this recommendation, Sir Andrew then rang up the Russian Embassy. Here a voice which was certainly not that of the ambassador seemed more desirous of obtaining information than handing it out.

        Yes, the lady had called. She had admitted that she was not English. Could Sir Andrew say what her nationality might be?

        "No," he answered cautiously. "I think she has only recently come to this country. But she was reticent as to what her real nationality is, or perhaps I didn't understand her reply."

        "Then you're not really in a position to guarantee her in any way?"

        "It has been a very short acquaintance. But she said she had exceptional knowledge of Russian, and I was curious to know how far you could confirm this. I don't know it well enough myself to be a good judge."

        "Oh, she knows Russian. Like a native, or almost better than that. But she wouldn't admit that she'd ever been there, and that's simply absurd. And her name doesn't tell us much. She might be Polish. She might be Hungarian. She might even be Czech."

        "But I take it she won't be much use to you?"

        "Oh, I'm not saying that, though I don't see what it would be. I hoped you could have told us more about her. But I know you run up against all sorts, just as we do, and we're obliged to you for letting us have a look. She certainly wouldn't get far with us unless she could be a lot franker than she's been yet. But thanks all the same."

        As he finished, he rang off too promptly for Sir Andrew to say more, which he was equally disinclined to do. He saw that it was assumed that he had contacted her in some way through his official position at the F.O., and he saw no reason why that impression should be disturbed. He was not told that Elya had gone away with twenty pounds in her bag, in addition to the fifteen she had had from a friendlier source. But the second amount had not been paid in anticipation of it being earned by proficiency in the Russian tongue. It was given to a foreign woman, who was a clever linguist, who had said plainly that she owed no loyalty to the British Crown, and had expressed political opinions, in response to adroit questioning, which, if not communistic, were certainly not such as a capitalist would approve. It was given in anticipation that she might talk more freely on a later occasion, and so that she should know, if she should have need of money (as most women do), where it could be easily had.

        But Sir Andrew had little time to consider this conversation before he was called to the telephone again on Elya's behalf. Messrs Gawthorne, Ellis & Gawthorne, Estate Agents, had been referred to him by a Miss Gabriel, who had enquired of them respecting a small luxury flat at £9.9.0 weekly, which she had now gone to see. Would she be a respectable and responsible tenant? She had been unable to give a bank reference, saying that she had only just come to this country. Sir Andrew judged the speaker to be well impressed by the personality of this lovely applicant, but dubious of the vagueness of her replies to the routine questions which it was natural for them to ask. If he should reply in the same way, it was a poor hope that she would get the flat she desired. He was not a poor man, and he had a whimsical inclination to see what Elya would do on a loose rein. He said: "The lady is just arrived from a distance, but there may be reasons why it would be indiscreet for her to be more explicit than that. I do not think it to be a matter in which I can interfere officially, but I should be quite willing to give you a personal guarantee for a month's rent, if that will be satisfactory."

        "That," was the cautious reply, "will be quite satisfactory so far as the rent is concerned, but of course there are other considerations in letting a flat of this character. The point is that she wants to get into it this afternoon, and if she's to do that, we ought to have an agreement ready when she gets back."

        "You mean if she's prepared to take it after the inspection?"

        "I don't think," Mr Ellis answered, rather coldly, "that there'll be much doubt of that. Sir Henry Wilton had it till last week."

        "Well, she won't be likely to steal the spoons, if you mean that, or put fleas into the bed."

        He was conscious, even as he spoke, that he might have illustrated his meaning in better ways, but Mr Ellis could have no suspicion of that. He said: "I didn't suppose anything of the kind. But with a lady who's on her own - well, I'm certain you'll understand that we like to be sure who our tenants are."

        "Yes. I appreciate that. But I really don't think you need have any doubt."

        Mr Ellis thanked him, and rang off. It had occurred to him that, in view of Sir Andrew's position at the Foreign Office, there might be diplomatic reasons for accommodating a mysterious foreign visitor which he might not be willing to explain in a telephone conversation. That would account for the offer to guarantee the rent. Or it would be equally explicable if she were one in whom he were taking a more personal interest. Well, if there should be discretion, such as might be anticipated from one in his position - It might be best not to probe further. He said he thought that would be all that it would be necessary to ask. Should the lady decide to take it, he would write by that night's post, enclosing the form of the guarantee.

        When Elya got back, she found that the agreement awaited her signature, and if Mr Ellis took the extra precaution of asking her for a week's rent in advance, well, as the guarantee was still unsigned, he could hardly be blamed for that. It was a condition which met with smiling assent, and as she gave him a sight of the bank notes her bag contained he concluded that all was well.

Chapter 12

In Which Nothing Happens.

        Elya lay in the bed which Sir Henry Wilton had not despised, and was well content. She felt that she had secured herself in a position which even Gabriel could not contemn. Last evening she had had the satisfaction of removing her possessions from Mr Bentley's inferior chambers, and of telling Leonard of the day's successes. Now she looked forward to exploiting the openings which she had made. The teaching of languages was not an end in itself. It would be rather a bore; and she had not come here to be bored, but to have some fun, and so she meant it to be.

        The serenity of her mind was not agitated by vain regrets, but she recognised that she had by-passed an attractive possibility in not having gone to the law courts with Leonard, and perhaps having a few words with those who dispensed the too-numerous laws, which no one man was equal to understand. There must be comic possibilities there. - Tragic ones too, she had wit to see, but she had a buoyancy of mind which could not easily be ruffled by troubles which were not hers. And if they were such a pest, why did not these half-wit humans sweep them away?

        She thought too, with satisfaction, of the fact that she was not bound to stay in London, or elsewhere in England, if the application of her lively logic to the comic antics of the humans round her should be unsatisfactory in its results. The languages which she had acquired gave her the freedom of nine-tenths of the inhabited surface of the terrestrial globe.

        But there was one basic question to be resolved. She had the power of transformation, as she had abundantly proved. She was a young woman now. She had been a dog. She had been a flea. (Or would several fleas be more exact?) For a brief minute she had been a cat. And through all these metamorphoses she had been herself, as she was now.

        That was true, but she knew that it over-simplified what occurred. Blended with her own nature, in every instance, had been that of the incarnation she had achieved.

        As a dog, she had felt the impulse to guard property from a thieving hand, even though it been that of strangers who had no claim of loyalty on herself. She had had an inclination to use her teeth on the legs of men.

        As a flea, she had felt a fierce joy as she distended her body