ging them together. Accordingly he framed
his enquiries so as to make the revelation of a latent antipathy as easy
as possible.

He made several not very well-devised beginnings. At the fifth Sir
Richmond was suddenly conclusive. "It's no use," he said, "I can't
fiddle about any more with my motives to-day."

An awkward silence followed. On reflection Sir Richmond seemed to
realize that this sentence needed some apology. "I admit," he said,
"that this expedition has already been a wonderfully good thing for me.
These confessions have made me look into all sorts of things--squarely.
But--I'm not used to talking about myself or even thinking directly
about myself. What I say, I afterwards find disconcerting to recall.
I want to alter it. I can feel myself wallowing into a mess of
modifications and qualifications."

"Yes, but--"

"I want a rest anyhow...."

There was nothing for Dr. Martineau to say to that.

The two gentlemen smoked for some time in a slightly uncomfortable
silence. Dr. Martineau cleared his throat twice and lit a second cigar.
They then agreed to admire the bridge and think well of Maidenhead. Sir
Richmond communicated hopeful news about his car, which was to arrive
the next morning before ten--he'd just ring the fellow up presently to
make sure--and Dr. Martineau retired early and went rather thoughtfully
to bed. The spate of Sir Richmond's confidences, it was evident, was
over.

Section 4

Sir Richmond's car arrived long before ten, brought down by a young
man in a state of scared alacrity--Sir Richmond had done some vigorous
telephoning before turning in,--the Charmeuse set off in a repaired and
chastened condition to town, and after a leisurely breakfast our two
investigators into the springs of human conduct were able to resume
their westward journey. They ran through scattered Twyford with its
pleasant looking inns and through the commonplace urbanities of Reading,
by Newbury and Hungerford's pretty bridge and up long wooded slopes to
Savernake forest, where they found the road heavy and dusty, still in
its war-time state, and so down a steep hill to the wide market street
which is Marlborough. They lunched in Marlborough and went on in the
afternoon to Silbury Hill, that British pyramid, the largest artificial
mound in Europe. They left the car by the roadside and clambered to the
top and were very learned and inconclusive about the exact purpose of
this vast heap of chalk and earth, th