motorists flew by
scornfully, like the Priest and the Levite, or slowed up to ask if they
could help, and looked with some interest at Mrs. Senter and me, sitting
there like mantelpiece ornaments. I didn't even want to slaughter them
for the dust they made, now that I'm a real motorist myself, for "dog
cannot eat dog"; and even cyclists seemed like our poor relations.

One elderly woman bumped by, sitting in a kind of dreadful bath chair
fastened in front of a motor bicycle, spattering noise and petrol. You
couldn't see her features under her expression, which was agonized. The
young man who propelled her was smirking conceitedly, as if to say,
"What a kind chap I am, giving my maiden aunt a good time!"

Presently a small car came limping along that had "We Know It" printed
in large, rough letters on a card, tied to a broken wheel. Wasn't that a
good idea, when they'd got nervous prostration having everybody tell
them?

Cows paused, gazed at us, and sneered; but at last Apollo's crumb was
extracted; Young Nick brushed the dust off his sleeves by rubbing his
arms together, the way flies clean their antennae, and we were ready to
go on. "It's a wise car that knows its own chauffeur," said Mrs. Senter.

Just because this happened, and because a tire presently burst in sheer
sympathy, we travelled in the beginning of sunset, which was divine. The
scene swam in rose-coloured light, so pink it seemed as if you could
bottle it, and it would still be pink. The tree trunks were cased in
ruddy gold, like the gold leaf wrapped round royal mummies. Making up
for lost time, the white road smoked beneath our tires, and we were soon
in the New Forest--the old, old New Forest, perfumed like the fore-court
of heaven.

We came to this pretty little hotel, in the midst of heathery spaces
like a cutting in the aromatic forest. I like my room, but I didn't want
to stop in it and begin dressing for dinner. Looking out of my window, I
saw a little white moon, curved like a baby's arm, cushioned among banks
of sky azaleas, so I felt I must go out and drink the sunset. I had left
too much of that rose-red wine in the bottom of the silver goblet. I
must have the last drop!

So I ran downstairs; and I warn you, now comes the experience which I
liked so much, but of which you won't approve.

The landlord stood in the hall, and I asked him if there were anything
wonderful I could go and see in a few minutes. He smiled, and said it
wouldn't