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at the corners.
    Don’t worry about money. Have it charged to my account. Fit the office out completely. I don’t want you getting on to me again.’ A slight pause as his eyes twinkled. T have other business to attend to now, but I’ll pick you up here at twelve-thirty and we'll go somewhere for lunch.’
    He was gone, leaving Laura open-mouthed on the pavement, hardly able to credit that this was the same man who had greeted her so rudely two days ago. The change in him was unbelievable, so out of character with her p re-formed opinion. It seemed that Jenny was right after all: with the right handling he was indeed a ‘real gentleman’. She hoped this mood of affinity would last—it would make her job so much more pleasant There was nothing worse than working in a discordant atmosphere.
    The salesman who greeted her was most helpful, but afraid in case Mr. Stuart rated her for overspending, Laura chose with care two filing-cabinets, a desk and chair and, with her heart in her mouth, the latest in electric typewriters. She also ordered a small stationery cupboard and a supply of stationery, which she had noticed was very low.
    Before long she had finished. She still had two hours to spare, so she wandered in and out of the shops buying tights and make-up and a few magazines. At twelve she stopped for coffee in a charming old-world restaurant she discovered in a narrow back street.
    In her corner Laura felt suddenly lonely. The other tables were occupied by groups of people, laughing and talking, reminding her of when she first moved to London. She had hated it until eventually she had made friends.
    ‘May I join you ?' Startled, she saw Brad smiling down. ‘I finished earlier than I expected and came in here to kill time. It was a welcome surprise to see you —but you look very sad. You’re not having second thoughts ?' He pulled out a chair, his grey eyes regarding her with amusement.
    ‘Just feeling lonely .'
    ‘My fault. I shouldn’t, have left you so long. I'd forgotten you were a stranger to the town .' His voice was low and kind and Laura looked at him, wondering what had caused this unusual solicitude.
    ‘I’m not blaming you ,' she said huskily, her green eyes wide and slightly embarrassed. ‘I enjoyed wandering round the town .'
    Beckoning a waitress, he said, ‘Now we're here we may as well have lunch. They do a jolly good veal and ham pie. How does that sound ?'
    ‘Fine. I’m starving .'
    Laura noticed the heads that turned to look at her handsome escort. He was obviously well known and she enjoyed the envious glances slanted in her direction. He seemed an entirely different person today and for the first time since leaving London she felt completely happy.
    Once outside in the mild autumn sunshine, Brad said, ‘How about making a day of it, Laura ?'
    He seemed not to notice the use of her Christian name and Laura’s spirits rose even higher. She smiled happily up into his face, green eyes meeting grey in a spirit of comradeship.
    ‘You should congratulate yourself ,' he said, adjusting his stride to fit hers. ‘It isn’t very often anyone gets me away from work.'
    ‘Then I’m glad I have,' said Laura. ‘You know what they say about all work and no play .'
    They strolled through absurdly narrow streets, sometimes charming, sometimes sordid. Laura exclaiming delightedly over old names such as Grope Lane, Shoplatch, Dogpole. They admired the Dingle, a sun-trap garden with a lake at the bottom which Brad explained had once been a quarry, and where the famous Shrewsbury flower show was held every year. And finally they wandered along the river bank, drinking in the tranquillity of the late afternoon.
    To Laura the whole day held an aura of unreality. It was inconceivable to associate this charmingly, attentive man with her tyrant of a boss, and when they started their homeward journey she sank back contentedly into her seat, saying:
    Thank you for a wonderful day, Mr Stuart.'
    ‘Brad, please