'Men in damned cravats?' Mac adjusted hers with slight annoyance. 'What can he possibly have against that?'

'I know! I didn't realise he noticed things like that' exclaimed Phyrne.

They were sitting in her living room relaxing with a drink.

'I think he means the men, not the cravats although it's not so easy to tell. If he hates cravats as much as that, he can't like me much.'

Phryne dismissed this notion.

'Don't be silly Mac, he could never dislike you.'

'That's because I'm not another damned man.'

Mac thought as much. She downed her drink and reached for the bottle. Phryne was still musing it over. Mac could tell there was something on her mind.

'Spill.'

Phyrne hesitated. Her friend was patient. The clock ticked on. Mac probed the murky pool of tangled thoughts.

'Do I detect a hint of jealousy coming from the upright Inspector? That parade of men you flaunt in front of him seems to have finally inspired some sort of reaction. Can't say I thought he had it in him to be honest.'

'Me neither.' Phyne was surprised to learn that stony faced Jack really did have a forlornly envious streak.

'But as you've figured that out, what's the issue? It can't be anything he's done recently to annoy you, has it?'

Phryne's expression changed. Mac could sense a storm brewing. The clock ticked on.

'It's that woman' Phryne eventually confessed.

'Which woman? You mean the ex-wife is back?'

'No. The one involved in this Italian case. The one at the restaurant. Strano's.'

Mac couldn't visualise this woman. She shrugged.

'Concetta.' Phryne drew out each syllable in a hiss of grudging admiration. 'Tall, dark and handsome.'

'Sounds like the kind of man you tend to go for' quipped Mac. The look she got in return made her wonder what it was about this Concetta that really pissed Phryne off.

'She and Jack are very familiar with each other.'

Mac raised her eyebrows in sudden understanding. There was some history there; Phyrne wanted to be the flame in his life and at present, Jack had another woman lighting his wick. She could see why this could really hack Phryne off. She wondered how far Jack had gone with Concetta. Phryne had obviously been considering the same thing.

'Are they committed?'

Phyrne sighed.

'No but…'

Neither of them had heard the doorbell. Not knowing Mr Butler had overheard them, he had opened the door to Detective Inspector Robinson; he of modest ambition and mournful mouth, standing at the door.

The door of the living room opened a few seconds before Mac leaned over and murmured 'you're jealous that it's not you getting the admiration for once.'

Phryne bolted upright, with an indignant denial on her lips when Jack Robinson strolled in, bottle of wine in hand. She turned to him immediately.

'Jack!'

Phryne had just perked up.

Mac jumped right in.

'Hello Jack, nice to see you. Gotta run. Bye Phryne.'

She slammed her glass down, nodded to them both and bolted, Mr Butler holding the door open tactfully. The subjects in question had said nothing but kept staring at each other in slow delight. Out in the hallway Mac leisurely put her coat and hat on, discretely overhearing the conversation as Mr Butler usually did.

'You'll just have to do make do with me' she said.

'We'll just have to make do with each other' he said. There was a definite smile in his voice.

Mac and Mr Butler exchanged a look of expectation as the swell of anticipation grew. They certainly would make do with each other. With a nod and a conspiratorial smile (very much reciprocated by Mr Butler), she turned and departed into the clear night.