sitively supernatural. And it is for this," he added bitterly, "that I
have dissipated in ten crowded minutes a reputation which it has taken
years to amass. It is for this that I have deliberately insulted several
respectable ladies, jeopardized the _Entente Cordiale_, and invited
personal violence of a most unpleasant character. To do this I shall
have travelled about a hundred and fifty miles, with the shade
temperature at ninety, and lost what would have been an undoubtedly
pleasant and possibly extremely fruitful day at Sandown Park. Don't be
afraid. I wouldn't touch you for worlds. You're being reserved for some
very special form of dissolution, you are. She-bears, or something. I
should avoid woods, any way. And now I'm going home. To-morrow I shall
start on a walking tour, with a spare sock and some milk chocolate, and
try to forget. If that fails, I shall take the snail--I mean the veil."

He turned on his heel and stalked haughtily in the direction of the boat
train.

Gurgling with merriment, Jill laid a hand on my arm.

"Daphne will simply scream," she said.

"If this little stunt has cost us Pauline," said I, "she won't leave it
at that."

We turned to follow my brother-in-law.

Jonah beckoned to Camille.

"_Venez. Restez pres de moi,_" he said.

On arriving at Charing Cross we left Jonah and the cook to weather the
Customs, and drove straight to Cholmondeley Street.

As we entered the hall, my sister came flying out of the library.

"Hello," she cried, "where's the cook? Don't say----"

Berry uncovered.

"_Pardon, madame,_" he said, "_mais vous etes Camille Franc_----That's
your cue. Now you say 'Serwine!' Just like that. 'Serwine!' Put all the
loathing you can into it--you'll find it can hold quite a lot--and fix
me with a glassy eye. Then I blench and break out Into a cold sweat. Oh,
it's a great game."

"Poor old chap," said Daphne. "It must have been awful. But haven't you
got her?"

"It's a he!" cried Jill, squeaking with excitement. "It's a he. Jonah's
bringing him----"

"A _what_?" said my sister, taking a pace backward.

"A male," said I. "You know. Like Nobby. Separate legs, and shaves on
Thursdays."

"Do you mean to say that it's a _chef_?"

I nodded.

My sister collapsed into a convenient chair and closed her eyes.
Presently she began to shake with laughter.

"It is droll, isn't it?" said Berry. "People wouldn't believe it. Fancy
travelling a hundred and fifty miles to