``Is that Mr. Last? I've got a message here, from Lady Brenda.''

``Right, put me through to her.''

``She can't speak herself, but she asked me to give you this message, that she's very sorry but she cannot join you tonight. She's very tired and has gone home to bed.''

``Tell her I want to speak to her.'''

``I can't I'm afraid, she's gone to bed. She's very tired.''

``She's very tired and she's gone to bed?''

``That's right.''

``Well, I want to speak to her.''

``Goodnight,'' said the voice.

``The old boy's plastered,'' said Beaver as he rang off.

``Oh dear. I feel rather awful about him. But what can he expect, coming up suddenly like this. He's got to be taught not to make surprise visits.''

``Is he often like that?''

``No, it's quite new.''

The telephone bell rang. ``D'you suppose that's him again? I'd better answer it.''

``I want to speak to Lady Brenda Last.''

``Tony, darling, this is me, Brenda.''

``Some damn fool said I couldn't speak to you.''

``I left a message from where I was dining. Are you having a lovely evening?''

``Hellish. I'm with Jock. He's worried about the Pig Scheme. Shall we come around and see you?''

``No, not now, darling, I'm terribly tired and just going to bed.''

``We'll come and see you.''

``Tony, are you a tiny bit tight?''

``Stinking. Jock and I'll come and see you.''

``Tony, you're not to. D'you hear? I can't have you making a brawl. The flats are getting a bad name anyhow.''

``Their name'll be mud when Jock and I come.''

``Tony, listen, will you please not come, not tonight. Be a good boy and stay at the club. Will you please not?''

``Shan't be long.'' He rang off.

``Oh God,'' said Brenda. ``This isn't the least like Tony. Ring up Brat's and get on to Jock. He'll have more sense.''

``That was Brenda.''

``So I gathered.''

``She's at the flat. I said that we'll go round.''

``Splendid. Haven't seen her for weeks. Very fond of Brenda.''

``So am I. Grand girl.''

``Grand girl.''

``A lady on the telephone for you, Mr. Grant-Menzies.''

``Who?''

``She didn't give a name.''

``All right. I'll come.''

Brenda said to him, ``Jock, what have you been doing to my husband.''

``He's a bit tight, that's all.''

``He's roaring. Look here he threatens to come round. I simply can't face him tonight in that mood, I'm tired out. You understand, don't you?''

``Yes, 1 understand.''

``So, will you, please, keep him away. Are you tight too?''

``A little bit.''

``Oh dear, can I trust you?''

``I'll try.'' .

``Well, it doesn't sound too good. Goodbye.'' ... John, you've got to go. Those hooligans may turn up at any moment. Have you got your taxi fare? You'll find some change in my bag.''

``Was that your girl?''

``Yes.''

``Made it up?''

``Not exactly.''

``Far better to make it up. Shall we have some more brandy and go round to Brenda straight away?''

``Let's have some more brandy.''

``Jock, you aren't still feeling low are you? Doesn't do to feel low. I'm not feeling low. I was, but I'm not any more.

``Then we'll have some brandy and then go to Brenda's.''

``All right.''

Half an hour later they got into Jock's car. ``Tell' you what, I shouldn't drive if I were you.''

``Not drive?''

``No, I shouldn't drive. They'd say you were drunk.''

``Who would?''

``Anyone you ran over. They'd say you were drunk.''

``Well, so I am.''

``Then I shouldn't drive.''

``Too far to walk.''

``We'll take a taxi.''

``Oh hell, I can drive.''

``Or let's not go to Brenda's at all.''

``We'd better go to Brenda's'' said Jock. ``She's expecting us.''

``Well I can't walk all that way. Besides I don't think she really wanted us to come.''

``She'll be pleased when she sees us.''

``Yes, but it's a long way. Let's go some other place.''

``I'd like to see Brenda,'' said Jock. ``I'm very fond of Brenda.''

``She's a grand girl.''

``She's a grand girl.''

``Well let's take a taxi to Brenda's.''

But half way Jock said, ``Don't let's go there. Let's go some other place. Let's go to some low joint.''

``All the same to me. Tell him to go to some low joint.''

``Go to some low joint,'' said Jock, putting his head through the window.

The cab wheeled round and made towards Shaftesbury Avenue.

``We can always ring Brenda from the low joint.''

``Yes, I think we ought to do that. She's a grand girl.''

``Grand girl.''

The cab turned down Wardour Street and then into Sink Street, a dingy little place inhabitated for the most part by Asiatics.

``D'you know, I believe he's taking us to the old Sixty-four.''

``Can't still be open? Thought they closed it down years ago.''

But the door was brightly illumined and a seedy figure in peaked cap and braided overcoat stepped out to open the taxi for them.

The Sixty-four has never been shut. For a generation, while other night clubs have sprung into being, with various names and managers, and various pretensions to respectability, have enjoyed a precarious and brief existence, and come to grief at the hands either of police or creditors, the Sixty-four has maintained a solid front against all adversity. It has not been immune from persecution; far from it. Times out of number, magistrates have struck it off, cancelled its license, condemned its premises; the staff and until her death, the proprietress, have been constantly in and out of prison; there have been questions in the House and committees of enquiry, but whatever Home Secretaries and Commissioners of Police have risen into eminence and retired discredited, the doors of the Sixty-four have always been open from nine in the evening until four at night, and inside there has been an unimpeded flow of dubious, alcoholic preparations. A kindly young lady admitted Tony and Jock to the ramshackle building.

``D'you mind signing in?'' Tony and Jock inscribed fictitious names at the foot of a form which stated, I have been invited to a Bottle Party at 64 Sink Street given by Mr. Charles Weybridge. ``That's five bob each please.''

It is not an expensive club to run, because none of the staff, except the band, receive any wages; they make what they can by going through the overcoat pockets and giving the wrong change to drunks. The young ladies get in free but they have to see to it that their patrons spend money.

``Last time I was here, Tony, was the bachelor party before your wedding.''

``Tight that night.''

``Stinking.''

``I'll tell you who else was tight that night--Reggie. Broke a fruit gum machine.''

``Reggie was stinking.''

``I say, you don't still feel low about that girl?''

``I don't feel low.''

``Come on, we'll go downstairs.''

The dance room was fairly full. An elderly man had joined the band and was trying to conduct it. ``I like this, joint,'' said Jock. ``What'll we drink?''

``Brandy.'' They had to buy a whole bottle. They filled in an order form to the Montmorency Wine Company and paid two pounds. When it came it had a label saying Very Old Liquor Fine Champagne. Imported by the Montmorency Wine Co. The waiter brought ginger ale and four glasses. Two young ladies came and sat with them. They were called Milly and Babs. Milly said, ``Are you in town for long?'' Babs said, ``Have you got such a thing as a cigarette?''

Tony danced with Babs. She said, ``Are you fond of dancing?''

``No, are you?''

``So-so.''

``Well, let's sit down.''

The waiter said, ``Will you a buy a ticket in a raffle for box of chocolates?''

``No.''