bull-calves with the
staggers. Well, believe me or believe me not ... are you asleep?"

"Yes."

"Believe me or believe me not, in under two minutes I was not merely
freed from the nausea caused by your cigar. I was smoking myself! I was
walking the deck with her without the slightest qualm. I was even able
to look over the side from time to time and comment on the beauty of the
moon on the water.... I have said some mordant things about women since
I came on board this boat. I withdraw them unreservedly. They still
apply to girls like Wilhelmina Bennett, but I have ceased to include the
whole sex in my remarks. Jane Hubbard has restored my faith in Woman.
Sam! Sam!"

"What?"

"I said that Jane Hubbard had restored my faith in Woman."

"Oh, all right."

Eustace Hignett finished undressing and got into bed. With a soft smile
on his face he switched off the light. There was a long silence, broken
only by the distant purring of the engines.

At about twelve-thirty a voice came from the lower berth.

"Sam!"

"What is it now?"

"There is a sweet womanly strength about her, Sam. She was telling me
she once killed a panther with a hat-pin."

Sam groaned and tossed on his mattress.

Silence fell again.

"At least I think it was a panther," said Eustace Hignett at a quarter
past one. "Either a panther or a puma."

CHAPTER VIII

SIR MALLABY OFFERS A SUGGESTION

Sec. 1

A week after the liner "Atlantic" had docked at Southampton Sam Marlowe
might have been observed--and was observed by various of the
residents--sitting on a bench on the esplanade of that rising
watering-place, Bingley-on-the-Sea, in Sussex. All watering-places on
the south coast of England are blots on the landscape, but though I am
aware that by saying it I shall offend the civic pride of some of the
others--none are so peculiarly foul as Bingley-on-the-Sea. The asphalte
on the Bingley esplanade is several degrees more depressing than the
asphalte on other esplanades. The Swiss waiters at the Hotel
Magnificent, where Sam was stopping, are in a class of bungling
incompetence by themselves, the envy and despair of all the other Swiss
waiters at all the other Hotels Magnificent along the coast. For
dreariness of aspect Bingley-on-the-Sea stands alone. The very waves
that break on its shingle seem to creep up the beach reluctantly, as if
it revolted them to have to come to such a place.

Why, then, was Sam Marlowe visiting this ozone