Scrupulously correct in his behaviour throughout," I suggested. " . . •
sleeping in a potting shed," continued
LOVERS' MEETINGS 13! Chuffy, and I must say it didn't sound half as good as my version. " That's not the point. The fact remains that in spite of being engaged to me and pretending this afternoon that you Were tickled pink to be engaged to me, you are still so much in love with Bertie that you can't keep away from him. You think I don't know all about your being engaged to him in New York, but I do. Oh, I'm not complaining," said Chuffy, looking rather like Saint Sebastian on receipt of about the fifteenth arrow. " You have a perfect right to love who you like . . ." " Whom, old man," I couldn't help saying. Jeeves has made me rather a purist in these matters. " Will you keep quiet! " " Of course, of course." " You keep shoving your oar in. . . ." " Sorry, sorry. Shan't occur again." Chuffy, who had been gazing at me as if he would have liked to strike me with a blunt instrument, gazed once more at Pauline as if he would have liked to strike her with a blunt instrument. " But ..." He paused. " Now you've made me forget what I was going to say," he said in a rather peevish manner. Famine took the floor. She was still on the pink side, and her eyes were gleaming glitteringly. I've seen my Aunt Agatha's eyes gleam just like that when she prepared to tick me off
for some fancied misdemeanour. Of the love light no traces remained. "
Well, then, perhaps you'll listen to what I'm going to say. I suppose you have no objection to my putting in a word ? " " None," said Chuffy.
" None, none," I said. Pauline was beyond a question stirred to the core. I could see her toes wiggling. " In the first place, you make me sick I " " Indeed ? " " Yes, indeed. In the second place, I hope I shall never see you again in this world or the next." " Really ? " " Yes, really. I hate you. I wish I'd never met you. I think you're a worse pig than any you've got up at that beastly house of yours." This interested me. " I didn't know you kept pigs, Chuffy." " Black Berkshires," he said absently. " Well, if that's how you . . ." " There's money in pigs." "
Well, all right," said Chuffy. " If that's how you feel, well, all right." " You bet it's all right." " That's what I said, it's all right." " My Uncle Henry . . ." " Bertie," said Chuffy. " Hallo ? " " I don't want to hear about your Uncle
Henry. I am not interested in your Uncle Henry. It will be all right with me if your damned 'Uncle Henry trips over his feet and breaks his blasted neck." " Too late, old man. He passed away three years ago.
Pneumonia. I was only saying he kept pigs. Made a good thing out of them, too." " Will you stop . . ." " Yes, and will you," said Pauline. "
Are you going to spend the night here ? I wish you would leave off talking and go." " I will," said Chuffy. " Do," said Pauline. " Good night," said Chuffy. He strode to the head of the stairs. " But one last word . . ." he said with a wide, passionate gesture. Well, I could have told the poor old chap that you can't do that sort of thing in these old-world country cottages. His knuckles hit a projecting beam, he danced in agony, overbalanced, and the next moment was on his way to the ground floor like a sack of coals. Pauline Stoker ran to the banisters and looked over. " Are you hurt ? " she cried. " Yes," yelled Chuffy. "
Good," cried Pauline. She came back into the room, and the front door slammed like the bursting of an overwrought heart.
I DREW a deepish breath. With the departure of the male half of the sketch a certain strain seemed to have gone out of the atmosphere.
Excellent companion though I had always found him in the past. Chuff y had not shown himself at his chummiest during the recent scene, with the result that for some little time I had been feeling rather like Daniel in the lions' den. Pauline was panting somewhat. Not exactly snorting, but coming very near to what you might call the borderland of the snort.
Her eyes were hard and bright. Deeply moved. She picked up her bathing suit. " Push off, Bertie," she said. I had been hoping for a quiet chat, in the course of which we would review the situation, touching on this point and on that, and strive to ascertain what to do for the best. "
But listen. . . ." " I want to change." " Change what ? " " Put on my swimming suit." I could not follow her. " Why ? " " Because I am going to swim."
" Swim ? " " Swim." I stared. " You aren't going back to the yacht ? " "
