have come off.
All the same, I don't want to charge the chap. He deserves six months,
if only for his cigar, but I'd rather somebody else sent him down."

"I expect they'll make you. After all, it was a pretty smart capture,
and the police'll be fed to the teeth if you don't go through with it."

"Considering it was stolen in London, I didn't see any sense in telling
the police at Flail, but the station-master apparently knew his job."

With a temporarily disengaged hand Miss Doiran caressed Nobby, who was
seated between us.

"I've always wanted a Sealyham," she sighed.

"You could have had one for nothing at three o'clock this morning."

"Did he have you up?"

I nodded.

"And down and out." I sighed. "It was a handsome night. Very cold,
though. I thought of you all warm in bed."

"What a wicked story! You never knew of my existence."

"I thought of everybody. That embraced you. It's extraordinary how
little women can wear without dying of exposure, isn't it?"

Miss Doiran glanced at her sleeve.

"This coat is lined with chamois leather," she said. "I don't know what
more you want."

"Yes. But your stockings aren't. When you stepped into the car I was
quite frightened for you."

My companion's chin rose, and she stared through the wind-screen with
compressed lips.

"I'm as warm as toast," she said defiantly.

"If you're no warmer than the toast I had for breakfast this
morning----"

"You should get up earlier."

"I thought I told you I was up and about at three."

"That doesn't count."

"Doesn't it? All right. You get up at three tomorrow and think of me all
warm in bed, and see whether it counts. By the way, don't say you wear
pyjamas, because I can't bear it."

Miss Doiran addressed our companion.

"Is he often like this, Nobby?"

I explained.

"It's not idle curiosity. You see, I'm editing a directory to be called
_That's That_. It's really a short list of the few nice people left who
aren't anybody: with just a word or two about their manners, failings,
virtues, if any, and the attire they usually affect when off duty. It
won't say when they were born, but why they were born."

"That'll sell it," said Miss Doiran.

"So you see. May I know now, or must I wait outside the bathroom?"

"I'm afraid," said Miss Doiran, "that you must wait outside the
bathroom."

I sighed.

"If it is pyjamas," said I, "I shall scream."

Some geese hissed as we swept by. The noise was inaudible, but