roll nor I asked to be allowed to call again in the morning to
thank them for a charming hour.... And they seemed to feel the same as
we did about it. There was no 'hoping that we should meet again in
London'--neither an au revoir nor a good-bye--just a tacit understanding
that that hour should remain isolated, accepted like a good gift without
looking the gift-horse in the mouth, single, unattached to any hours
before or after--I don't know whether you see what I mean.... Give me a
match somebody....

"And so we left, with no more than looks exchanged and finger-tips
resting between the back of our hands and our lips for a moment. We
found our way out by ourselves, down that shallow-stepped staircase with
the handsome handrail, and let ourselves out of the double door and
grille, closing it softly. We made for the village without speaking a
word.... Heigho!..."

Loder had picked up the cigarette case again, but for all the way his
eyes rested on it I doubt whether he really saw it. I'm pretty sure he
didn't; I knew when he did by the glance he shot at me, as much as to say
"I see you're wondering where the cigarette case comes in."... He
resumed with another little laugh.

"Well," he continued, "we got back to Rangon's house. I really don't
blame Rangon for the way he took it when we told him, you know--he
thought we were pulling his leg, of course, and he wasn't having any; not
he! There were no English ladies in Darbisson, he said.... We told him as
nearly as we could just where the house was--we weren't very precise, I'm
afraid, for the village had been in darkness as we had come through it,
and I had to admit that the cypress hedge I tried to describe where we'd
met our friends was a good deal like other cypress hedges--and, as I say,
Rangon wasn't taking any. I myself was rather annoyed that he should
think we were returning his hospitality by trying to get at him, and it
wasn't very easy either to explain in my French and Carroll's Provencal
that we were going to let the thing stand as it was and weren't going to
call on our charming friends again.... The end of it was that Rangon
just laughed and yawned....

"'I knew it was good, my wine,' he said, 'but--' a shrug said the rest.
'Not so good as all that,' he meant....

"Then he gave us our candles, showed us to our rooms, shook hands, and
marched off to his own room and the Prevosts.

"I dreamed of my old lady half the night.

"After coffee the next morn