tolary sense faltered, laboured, and ceased to
function.

I re-read what I had written, touched up the punctuation, and fingered
my chin. I reviewed the past, I contemplated the future, I regarded my
finger-nails--all to no effect. There was simply nothing to say.
Finally I rose and went in search of a waiter. There was, I felt, a
chance that a Martini might stimulate my brain....

I returned to my seat to find that, while I had been gone, a heifer
from another herd had come to drink at the pool.

Immediately upon the opposite side of the writing-table sat one of the
prettiest women that I have ever seen. Her colouring was superb.
Beneath a snow-white skin all the wild beauty of a mountain-rose glowed
in her cheeks; each time she moved, a flashing mystery of red and
golden lights blazed from the auburn crown piled on her head; stars
danced an invitation in the great grey eyes. Her small straight nose,
the exquisite line of her face, her fairy mouth alone would have
redeemed the meanest countenance. A plain black velvet dress, cut
rather high at the throat, but leaving her lovely arms bare from the
shoulder, and a complete absence of jewellery, showed that my lady knew
how pictures should be framed....

With an effort I bent to my letter. From being difficult, however, the
composition of another two pages of coherent prose had become
formidable. Turning to the past, I could remember nothing. Looking
into the future, I found myself blind. As for the present, I felt
instinctively that a description of the curve of my _vis-a-vis'_ mouth
would be out of place and might be misunderstood.

I observed suddenly that my lady had stopped writing.

After a moment she read over what she had written and put in two
commas. Then she put a dash at the end of her last sentence. Such an
addition had not occurred to me. For what it was worth, I adopted it
surreptitiously. When I looked up, the tips of four pointed fingers
were being regarded with some severity. Finally the girl laid down her
pen, and, propping her chin on two ridiculous fists, stared dismally
upon the neutral zone between our respective blotting pads.

"Have you dealt with the weather?" said I.

The stars, which had stopped dancing, leaped again into life.

"Fully," she said.

"And the place?"

She nodded.

"And the people staying in the hotel?"

"I've just said they're all very dull."

I wrote rapidly. Then--

"'The people here,'" I rea