kes in a quaint, theoretic manner at the head of the
table, his wife chattered and gushed and became vastly enthusiastic
over house junior football teams and the personnel of next year's
cricket eleven. Her grasp of detail and statistics carried dismay even
to boys. Martin was glad that he was in the middle of the table and
avoided the necessity of making conversation.

"Medio tutissimus ibis," he quoted to himself from that morning's
'trans' as he listened to Caruth, who had used Brilliantine instead of
water and was eager to shine socially, answering her questions and
assenting to her tremendous declamations.

"Isn't it splendid," said Mrs Foskett, "about the school athletics?
When we first came here Elfrey hardly ever won its school matches and
now we never get beaten. Fermor's play last summer was marvellous,
positively marvellous. D'you know, he actually got fifty wickets for
9.76 and had a batting average of 37. He's sure to get a blue at
Cambridge. The last Elfreyan to get a blue was Staples: he made 74 at
Lord's and was run out by an Old Etonian."

"Hard luck," said Caruth. "I do think being run out is rotten."

"Are you a cricketer?" continued Mrs Foskett.

"Well, I was captain of my preparatory school," said Caruth, assuming
the humble voice and depreciatory smile that betoken a proper modesty.
"But of course that's not much."

"It's the best beginning. You're sure to play for the school before
you're done."

"Oh, I don't suppose so," answered Caruth. He felt it to be an
inefficient answer and wondered, fingering his tie, what the ideal
reply would have been. Would 'Oh, Mrs Foskett!' have been too familiar?

Then it turned out that Caruth had been to Murren for the winter
sports. This was one of Mrs Foskett's well-known themes. Her subjects
included Greece, Switzerland, Patriotism, Sport, and the Nobility.

"Oh, I think Murren's so lovely," she began. "To be so high up, right
above those Wengen people. I love ski-ing. And the sun. And the
glorious air. There's nothing like it. And such nice people. Such
really charming people. Last winter we met Lord and Lady Dalston.
They're so interested in the personal side of Social Service. Lord
Dalston has a club in the Mile End Road, and in the evenings he goes
and sings there himself--such a beautiful voice. Of course they don't
get many people yet because of----"

"The picture palaces," suggested Caruth nobly. He thought it about
tim