plain myself.

"You must surely realize," I said, "that the Archdeacon isn't the only
man in the world who would like--any man would--in fact every man must,
unless he's married already, and in that case he's extremely sorry he
can't. I certainly do."

Lalage grew gradually more and more crimson in the face while I spoke.
At my last words she started violently, and for an instant I thought she
was going to fall into the tank.

"Do be careful," I said. "I don't want to have to dive in after you and
drag you, in a state of suspended animation, to the shore."

Lalage recovered both her balance and her self-possession.

"Don't you?" she said, with a peculiar smile.

"No, I don't."

"I should have thought," she said, "that any man would. According to you
every man must, unless he is married already, and then he'd be extremely
sorry that he couldn't."

"In that sense of the words," I said, "of course I do. Please fall in."

"I daresay that the words don't really mean what they seem to mean,"
said Lalage. "Lots of those words don't. I must look them out in the
original Greek."

After this our conversation became greatly confused. It had been
slightly confused before. The reference to the original Greek completed
the process. It seems to me, looking back on it now, that we sat there,
Lalage on the edge of the water tank, I in my hammock chair, and flung
illusive phrases and half finished sentences at each other, getting hot
by turns, and sometimes both together. At last Lalage left me, quite as
abruptly as she had come. I did not know what to make of the situation.
There had been nothing but conversation between us. I always understood
that under certain circumstances there is more than conversation,
sometimes a great deal more. I picked up "Sword Play," which lay on the
ground beside me. It was the only authority to hand at the moment. I
turned to the last chapter and found that the fencing professor and
the haughty lady had not stopped short at conversation. When the lady
finally unbent she did so in a very thorough way and things had passed
between her and the gentleman which it made me hotter than ever to read
about. I had not stirred from my chair nor Lalage from the edge of the
tank while we talked. I was greatly perplexed. It was quite plain the
history of the swordsman and his lady was not the only one which made
me sure of this--that my love-making had not run the normal course. In
every single record of su