ly snorted. There was something about the thought
of these people carelessly revelling at a time when, for all they knew, I
was probably being dragged about the countryside by goats or chewed by
elephants, that struck home at me like a poisoned dart. It was the sort
of thing you read about as having happened just before the French
Revolution--the haughty nobles in their castles callously digging in and
quaffing while the unfortunate blighters outside were suffering frightful
privations.

The voice of the Bassett cut in on these mordant reflections:

"Bertie."

"Hullo!"

Silence.

"Hullo!" I said again.

No response. Whole thing rather like one of those telephone conversations
where you sit at your end of the wire saying: "Hullo! Hullo!" unaware
that the party of the second part has gone off to tea.

Eventually, however, she came to the surface again:

"Bertie, I have something to say to you."

"What?"

"I have something to say to you."

"I know. I said 'What?'"

"Oh, I thought you didn't hear what I said."

"Yes, I heard what you said, all right, but not what you were going to
say."

"Oh, I see."

"Right-ho."

So that was straightened out. Nevertheless, instead of proceeding she
took time off once more. She stood twisting the fingers and scratching
the gravel with her foot. When finally she spoke, it was to deliver an
impressive boost:

"Bertie, do you read Tennyson?"

"Not if I can help."

"You remind me so much of those Knights of the Round Table in the 'Idylls
of the King'."

Of course I had heard of them--Lancelot, Galahad and all that lot, but I
didn't see where the resemblance came in. It seemed to me that she must
be thinking of a couple of other fellows.

"How do you mean?"

"You have such a great heart, such a fine soul. You are so generous, so
unselfish, so chivalrous. I have always felt that about you--that you are
one of the few really chivalrous men I have ever met."

Well, dashed difficult, of course, to know what to say when someone is
giving you the old oil on a scale like that. I muttered an "Oh, yes?" or
something on those lines, and rubbed the billowy portions in some
embarrassment. And there was another silence, broken only by a sharp howl
as I rubbed a bit too hard.

"Bertie."

"Hullo?"

I heard her give a sort of gulp.

"Bertie, will you be chivalrous now?"

"Rather. Only too pleased. How do you mean?"

"I am going to try you to the utmost. I am going to t