ndalised."

"You never learned to swim, then, Gerry----?" She just stopped herself
in time. The words "after all" were on her lips. Without them her
speech was mere chat; with them it would have been a match to a mine.
She sometimes wished in these days that the mine might explode of
itself, and give her peace.

"I suppose I never did," replied her husband, as a matter of course.
"At least, I couldn't do it when I tried in the water just now. I
should imagine I must have tried B.C., or I shouldn't have known how
to try. It's not a thing one forgets, so they say." He paused a few
seconds, and then added: "Anyhow, it's quite certain I couldn't do
it." There was not a trace of consciousness on his part of anything
in _her_ mind beyond what her words implied. But she felt in peril of
fire, so close to him, with a resurrection of an image in it--a vivid
one--of the lawn-tennis garden of twenty years ago, and the speech of
his friend, the real Fenwick, about his inability to swim.

This sense of peril did not diminish as he continued: "I've found out
a lot of things I _can_ do in the way of athletics, though; I seem to
know how to wrestle, which is very funny. I wonder where I learned.
And you saw how I could ride at Sir Mountmassingham's last month?"
This referred to a country visit, which has not come into our story.
"And that was very funny about the boxing. Such a peaceful old fogey
as your husband! Wasn't it, Rosey darling?"

"Why won't you call the Bart. by his proper name, Gerry? Wasn't what?"

"Funny about the gloves. You know that square fellow? He was a
well-known prizefighter that young Sales Wilson had picked up and
brought down to teach the boys. You remember him? He went to church,
and was very devout...."

"I remember."

"Well, it was in the billiard-room, after dinner. He said quite
suddenly, 'This gentleman now can make use of his daddles. I can see
it in him'--meaning me. 'What makes you think that, Mr. Macmorrough?'
said I. 'We of the fancy, sir,' says he, 'see these things, without
referrin' to no books, by the light of Nature.' And next day we had
a set-to with the gloves, and his verdict was 'Only just short of
professional.' Those boys were delighted. I wonder how and when
I became such a dab at it?"

"I wonder!" Rosalind doesn't seem keen on the subject. "I wish those
crazy girls would begin to think of coming in. If it's going to be
like this every day I shall go home to London, Gerry."

"