could not predict
with certainty that at any given moment he would not be under water. It
tended to spoil the flow of one's eloquence. The best of arguments is
useless if the listener suddenly disappears in the middle of it.

"Stick to it, old horse," said Ukridge. "I think you're going to bring
it off."

I stuck to it.

"Mr. Derrick," I said, as his head emerged, "you are naturally
surprised."

"You would be," said Ukridge. "We don't blame you," he added handsomely.

"You--you--you--" So far from cooling the professor, liberal doses of
water seemed to make him more heated. "You impudent scoundrel!"

My reply was more gentlemanly, more courteous, on a higher plane
altogether.

I said, winningly: "Cannot we let bygones be bygones?"

From his remarks I gathered that we could not. I continued. I was under
the unfortunate necessity of having to condense my speech. I was not
able to let myself go as I could have wished, for time was an important
consideration. Ere long, swallowing water at his present rate, the
professor must inevitably become waterlogged.

"I have loved your daughter," I said rapidly, "ever since I first saw
her ..."

"And he's a capital chap," interjected Ukridge. "One of the best. Known
him for years. You'll like him."

"I learned last night that she loved me. But she will not marry me
without your consent. Stretch your arms out straight from the shoulders
and fill your lungs well and you can't sink. So I have come this
morning to ask for your consent."

"Give it!" advised Ukridge. "Couldn't do better. A very sound fellow.
Pots of money, too. At least he will have when he marries."

"I know we have not been on the best of terms lately. For Heaven's sake
don't try to talk, or you'll sink. The fault," I said, generously, "was
mine ..."

"Well put," said Ukridge.

"But when you have heard my explanation, I am sure you will forgive me.
There, I told you so."

He reappeared some few feet to the left. I swam up, and resumed.

"When you left us so abruptly after our little dinner-party----"

"Come again some night," said Ukridge cordially. "Any time you're
passing."

"...you put me in a very awkward position. I was desperately in love
with your daughter, and as long as you were in the frame of mind in
which you left I could not hope to find an opportunity of revealing my
feelings to her."

"Revealing feelings is good," said Ukridge approvingly. "Neat."

"You see what a fix I was in,