n Samuel out of his own house," said Myra indignantly.

"We aren't turning him; he wants to go. But, of course, if you and your
young man would like to live there instead--"

Myra looked at me eagerly.

"It would be rather fun," she said. "We'd have another little honeymoon
all to ourselves."

"It wouldn't really be a honeymoon," I objected. "We should always be
knocking up against trippers in the garden, Archies and Samuels and
Thomases and what not. They'd be all over the place."

Dahlia explained the domestic arrangements. The honeymooners had their
little breakfast in their own little house, and then joined the others
for the day at about ten.

"Or eleven," said Thomas.

"It would be rather lovely," said Myra thoughtfully.

"Yes," I agreed; "but have you considered that--Come over this way a
moment, where Thomas and Simpson can't hear, while I tell you some of the
disadvantages."

I led her into a quiet corner and suggested a few things to her which I
hoped would not occur to the other two.

_Item_: That if it was raining hard at night, it would be beastly.
_Item_: That if you suddenly found you'd left your pipe behind, it would
be rotten. _Item_: That if, as was probable, there wasn't a proper
bathroom in the little house, it would be sickening. _Item_: That if she
had to walk on muddy paths in her evening shoes, it would be--

At this point Myra suddenly caught the thread of the argument. We went
back to the others.

"We think," said Myra, "it would be perfectly heavenly in the little
house; but--" She hesitated.

"But at the same time," I said, "we think it's up to Simpson and Thomas
to be English gentlemen. Samuel, it's your honour."

There was a moment's silence.

"Come along," said Thomas to Simpson, "let's go and look at it."

* * * * *

After lunch, clean and well-fed and happy, we lay in deck-chairs on the
loggia and looked lazily down at the Mediterranean.

"Thank you, Samuel, for bringing us," said Dahlia gently. "Your friends
must be very fond of you to have lent you this lovely place."

"Not fonder than we are," said Myra, smiling at him.

IV.

BEFORE LUNCH

I found Myra in the hammock at the end of the loggia.

"Hallo," I said.

"Hallo." She looked up from her book and waved her hand. "Mentone on the
left, Monte Carlo on the right," she said, and returned to her book
again. Simpson had mentioned the situation so many times that it had