le. It must be Johann or nothing."

"Then," said Joan, "let us say nothing"--an ambiguity of which I
determined to take full advantage.

Johann, I must now explain, was the sole survivor of six small bottles
of the genuine Rhine brand which Joan's uncle (who is in the trade)
had given her last Christmas. Number Five had been opened on the
evening of August Bank Holiday after a strenuous day on the tennis
courts. Later, when hostilities had started all round I had taken a
terrible oath that nothing of German or Austrian origin should be used
in our household until Peace broke out. This necessitated the
sacrifice of at least four inches of breakfast sausage and the better
part of a box of Carlsbad plums. Johann, being intact, was merely
interned. But at that time I had not anticipated that some three
months later I should be exhausted by long and tiring drills and
manoeuvres.

However, on this night my body cried aloud for Johann's refreshing
contents. I did not care two pins that he had been manufactured on the
banks of the Rhine, or that he was the product of alien and hostile
hands. After all, it wasn't Johann's fault; and besides, surely he had
been long enough in England to become naturalised. At any rate it was
both prejudiced and illogical to assume that Johann was my enemy
solely because he happened to be born in Germany.

The bath took some time to fill. The taps, I think, wanted sweeping.
But during the time that elapsed I made up my mind. Johann should be
opened. I slipped on my dressing-gown and went in search of him. When
I had secured him I met Joan on the landing; she was just going down
to dinner.

"Haven't you had your bath yet?" she asked. "Hurry up and--oh! you've
got Johann!"

"Yes," I said. "I have decided that there is no evidence to prove that
he is not a naturalised British bottle. I am going to open him."

"You renegade!" Joan cried. "If you dare so much as to loosen his cork
I'll--I'll give you an Iron Cross."

"I'm desperate," I answered. "I would still open Johann even if you
threatened me with the Iron Cross of both the first and the second
class."

"Coward!" said Joan. "Still, if you're really determined to open him,
remember half belongs to me."

A moment later I had poured half the contents of Johann--his full name
is Johann Maria Farina--into my bath.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _She_. "THIS BE A TERRIBLE WAR, DOCTOR."

_He_. "IT IS, INDEED."