“This is his address,” said the lady, rising, and handing him an envelope.  “I shall not feel at rest until he is safely interned.  You will not mention my name, of course.  It is tragic to be obliged to work against one’s friends in the dark.  Your young neighbour spoke in enthusiastic terms of your zeal, and I am sure that in choosing you for my public man she was not pulling—­er—­was not making a mistake.”

Mr. Lavender bowed.

“I hope not, madam, he said humbly I try to do my duty.”

The lady smiled her sinuous smile and moved towards the door, leaving on the air a faint odour of vinegar and sandalwood.

When she was gone Mr. Lavender sat down on the edge of his chair before the tea-tray and extracted his teeth while Blink, taking them for a bone, gazed at them lustrously, and the moon-cat between his feet purred from repletion.  “There is reason in all things,” he thought, running his finger over what was left in his mouth, “but not in patriotism, for that would prevent us from consummating the destruction of our common enemies.  It behoves us public men ever to set an extreme example.  Which one can I spare, I wonder?” And he fixed upon a large rambling tooth on the left wing of his lower jaw.  “It will hurt horribly, I’m afraid; and if I have an anaesthetic there will be someone else present; and not improbably I shall feel ill afterwards, and be unable to form a clear judgment.  I must steel myself.  Blink!”

For Blink was making tremulous advances to the teeth.  “How pleasant to be a dog!” thought Mr. Lavender, “and know nothing of Germans and teeth.  I shall be very unhappy till this is out; but Aurora recommended me, and I must not complain, but rather consider myself the most fortunate of public men.”  And, ruffling his hair till it stood up all over his head, while his loose eyebrow worked up and down, he gazed at the moon-cat.

“Moon-cat,” he said suddenly, “we are but creatures of chance, unable to tell from one day to another what Fate has in store for us.  My tooth is beginning to ache already.  That is, perhaps, as it should be, for I shall not forget which one it is.”  So musing he resumed his teeth; and, going to his bookcase, sought fortitude and inspiration in the records of a Parliamentary debate on enemy aliens.

It was not without considerable trepidation, however, on the following afternoon that he made his way up Welkin Street, and rang at the number on the envelope in his hand.

“Yes sir, doctor is at home,” said the maid.

Mr. Lavender’s heart was about to fail him when, conjuring up the vision of Aurora, he said in a faint voice:  “I wish to see him professionally.”  And, while the maid departed up the stairs, he waited in the narrow hall, alternately taking his hat off and putting it on again, so great was his spiritual confusion.

“Doctor will see you at once, sir.”

Putting his hat on hastily, Mr. Lavender followed her upstairs, feeling at his tooth to make quite sure that he remembered which it was.  His courage mounted as he came nearer to his fate, and he marched into the room behind the maid holding his hat on firmly with one hand and his tooth in firmly with the other.  There, beside a red velvet dentist’s chair, he saw a youngish man dressed in a white coat, with round eyes and a domestic face, who said in good English: