tance, just to keep him amused. Dashing young cock-sparrows would
show off before their particular hen-sparrows, and earn a cheap
reputation for dare-devilry by going within so many years of Edwin's
lair, and then darting away. Bob was in his favourite place on the
gravel. I took him with me down to the Cob to watch me bathe.

"What's the matter with me to-day, Robert, old son?" I asked him, as I
dried myself.

He blinked lazily, but contributed no suggestion.

"It's no good looking bored," I went on, "because I'm going to talk
about myself, however much it bores you. Here am I, as fit as a
prize-fighter, living in the open air for I don't know how long, eating
good plain food--bathing every morning--sea-bathing, mind you--and yet
what's the result? I feel beastly."

Bob yawned, and gave a little whine.

"Yes," I said, "I know I'm in love. But that can't be it, because I was
in love just as much a week ago, and I felt all right then. But isn't
she an angel, Bob? Eh? Isn't she? And didn't you feel bucked when she
patted you? Of course you did. Anybody would. But how about Tom Chase?
Don't you think he's a dangerous man? He calls her by her Christian
name, you know, and behaves generally as if she belonged to him. And
then he sees her every day, while I have to trust to meeting her at odd
times, and then I generally feel such a fool I can't think of anything
to talk about except golf and the weather. He probably sings duets with
her after dinner, and you know what comes of duets after dinner."

Here Bob, who had been trying for some time to find a decent excuse for
getting away, pretended to see something of importance at the other end
of the Cob, and trotted off to investigate it, leaving me to finish
dressing by myself.

"Of course," I said to myself, "It may be merely hunger. I may be all
right after breakfast. But at present I seem to be working up for a
really fine fit of the blues. I feel bad."

I whistled to Bob, and started for home. On the beach I saw the
professor some little distance away, and waved my towel in a friendly
manner. He made no reply.

Of course, it was possible that he had not seen me; but for some reason
his attitude struck me as ominous. As far as I could see, he was
looking straight at me, and he was not a short-sighted man. I could
think of no reason why he should cut me. We had met on the links on the
previous morning, and he had been friendliness itself. He had called me
"me dear