“That’s it. Awfully mixed crowd. Not a posh affair. Artists, you know, and all sorts of odd women and a sprinkling of our lot. They say quite a lot of things, but I think that that’s all bunkum myself, just said to make the place go.”

“Good,” said Bundle. “We’ll go there tonight.”

“Oh! I shouldn’t do that,” said Bill. His embarrassment had returned. “I tell you it’s played out. Nobody goes there now.”

“Well, we’re going.”

“You wouldn’t care for it, Bundle. You wouldn’t really.”

“You’re going to take me to the Seven Dials Club and nowhere else, Bill. And I should like to know why you are so unwilling?”

“I? Unwilling?”

“Painfully so. What’s the guilty secret?”