"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "we came here this memorable afternoon to discuss the advisability of taking a certain messuage--to wit, the Villa Buichi--for the s.p.a.ce of three years. As a result of that discussion I have formed certain conclusions. In the first place, I am satisfied that to dwell with you or any of you in the Villa Buichi or any other habitation for the s.p.a.ce of three years presents a prospect so horrifying as to belittle Death itself. Secondly, while my main object in visiting the said messuage was to insure, if possible, against the future contraction of some complaint or disease of the hams, I have, I fear, already defeated that object by sitting for upwards of ninety minutes upon a chair which is rather harder than the living rock, and whose surface I have reason to believe is studded with barbs. Thirdly, whilst we are all agreed that a rent of fourteen thousand francs is grotesque, I'd rather pay twice that sum out of my own pocket than continue an argument which threatens to affect my mind.

Fourthly, the house is not what we want, or where we want it. The prospect of wa.s.sailing in your own comic banqueting-hall is alluring, but the French cook believes in oil, and, to us, living in the town, every pa.s.sing breeze will offer indisputable evidence, not only of the lengths to which this belief will go, but of the Pentateuchal effects which can be obtained by a fearless application of heat to rancid blubber. Fifthly, since we can get nothing else, and the thought of another winter in England is almost as soul-shaking as that of living again amid French furniture, I suppose we'd better take it, always provided they fill up the bas.e.m.e.nt, put on a Mansard roof, add a few cupboards, and reduce the rent. Sixthly, I wish to heaven I'd never seen the blasted place. Lastly, I now propose to repair to the _Cercle Anglais_, or English Club, there in the privacy of the _lavabo_ to remove the traces of the preserved apricot recently adhering to my right shoe, and afterwards to ascertain whether a dry Martini, cupped in the mouth, will do something to relieve the agony I am suffering as the direct result of concentrating on this rotten scheme to the exclusion of my bodily needs. But there you are. When the happiness of others is at stake, I forget that I exist."

With that, he picked up his hat and, before we could stop him, walked out of the shop.

With such an avowal ringing in our ears, it was too much to expect that he would remember that he had ordered the tea, and had personally consumed seven cakes, not counting the apricot tart.

However...

I followed him to the Club, rang up the agent, and offered to take the house for three years at a rent of twelve thousand francs. He promised to telephone to our villa within the hour.

He was as good as his word.

He telephoned to say that the French gentleman, who had unexpectedly returned from Bordeaux, had just submitted an offer of fourteen thousand francs. He added that, unless we were prepared to offer a higher rent, it would be his duty to accept that proposal.

After a moment's thought, I told him to do his duty and bade him adieu.

That night was so beautiful that we had the cars open.

As we approached the Casino--

"Let's just go up the Boulevard," said Daphne. "This is too lovely to leave."

I slowed up, waited for Jonah to come alongside, and then communicated our intention to continue to take the air.

The Boulevard being deserted, Ping and Pong proceeded slowly abreast....

A sunset which had hung the sky with rose, painted the mountain-tops and turned the West into a blazing smeltery of dreams, had slowly yielded to a night starlit, velvety, breathless, big with the gentle witchcraft of an amber moon. Nature went masked. The depths upon our left seemed bottomless; a grey flash spoke of the Gave de Pau: beyond, the random rise and fall of a high ridge argued the summit of a gigantic screen--the foothills to wit, odd twinkling points of yellow light, seemingly pendent in the air, marking the farms and villas planted about their flanks. And that is all. A row of poplars, certainly, very correct, very slight, very elegant, by the way that we take for Lourdes--the row of poplars should be recorded; the luminous stars also, and a sweet white glow in the heaven, just where the ridge of the foothills cuts it across--a trick of the moonlight, no doubt....

Sirs, it is no such trick. That misty radiance is the driven snow resting upon the peaks of the Pyrenees. The moon is shining full on them, and, forty miles distant though they are, you see them rendering her light, as will a looking-gla.s.s, and by that humble office clothing themselves with unimaginable splendour.

As we stole into the Place Royale--

"Every minute," announced Adele, "I'm more and more thankful that we're quit of the Villa Buichi. We should have been simply mad to have taken a house in the town."

"There you are," said Berry. "My very words. Over and over again I insisted----"

"If you mean," said Jonah, "that throughout the argument you confined yourself to destructive criticism, deliberate confusion of the issues, and the recommendation of solutions which you knew to be impracticable, I entirely agree."

"The trouble with you," said Berry, "is that you don't appreciate the value of controversy. I don't blame you. Considering the backlash in your spinal cord, I think you talk very well. It's only when----"

"What exactly," said Adele, bubbling, "is the value of controversy?"

"Its unique ability," said Berry, "to produce the truth. The hotter the furnace of argument, the harder the facts which eventually emerge.

That's why I never spare myself. I don't pretend it's easy, but then I'm like that. Somebody offers you a drink. The easiest way is to refuse. But I don't. I always ask myself whether my health demands it."

There was an outraged silence.

Then--

"I have noticed," I observed, "that upon such occasions your brain works very fast. Also that you invariably choose the--er--harder path."

"Nothing is easier," said Berry, "than to deride infirmity." Having compa.s.sed the Place Royale, we returned to the Boulevard. "And now, if you've quite finished maundering over the beauties of a landscape which you can't see, supposing we focussed on the object with which we set out. I've thought out a new step, I want to show you. It's called 'The Slip St.i.tch.' Every third beat you stagger and cross your legs above the knee. That shows you've been twice to the Crusades. Then you purl two and cast four off. If you're still together, you get up and repeat to the end of the row knitways, decreasing once at every turn. Then you cast off very loosely."

Happily the speaker was in the other car, so we broke away and fled up the Rue du Lycee....

The dancing-room was crowded. Every English visitor seemed to be there, but they were not all dancing, and the floor was just pleasantly full.

As we came in, I touched Adele on the arm.

"Will you dance with me, la.s.s?"

I was not one moment too soon.

As I spoke, two gallants arrived to lodge their claims.

"I've accepted my husband," said Adele, smiling.

She had to promise the next and the one after.

Whilst we were dancing, she promised the fourth and the fifth.

"I can see," said I, "that I'm in for my usual evening. Of course, we're too highly civilised. I feed you, I lodge you, I clothe you"--I held her off and looked at her--"yes, with outstanding success. You've a glorious colour, your eyes are like stars, and your frock is a marvel. In fact, you're almost too good to be true. From your wonderful, sweet-smelling hair to the soles of your little pink feet, you're an exquisite production. Whoever did see such a mouth? I suppose you know I married you for your mouth? And your throat?

And--but I digress. As I was saying, all this is due to me. If I fed you exclusively on farinaceous food, you'd look pale. If I locked you out of nights, you'd look tired. If I didn't clothe you, you'd look--well, you wouldn't be here, would you? I mean, I know we move pretty fast nowadays, but certain conventions are still observed. Very well, then. I am responsible for your glory. I bring you here, and everybody in the room dances with you, except myself. To complete the comedy, I have only to remind you that I love dancing, and that you are the best dancer in the room. I ask you."

"That's just what you don't do," said Adele, with a maddening smile.

"If you did...."

"But----"

"Certain conventions," said Adele, "are still observed. Have I ever refused you?"

"You couldn't. That's why I don't ask you."

"O-o-oh, I don't believe you," said Adele. "If it was Leap Year----"

"Pretend it is."

"--and I wanted to dance with you----"

"Pretend you do."

The music stopped with a crash, and a moment later a Frenchman was bowing over my wife's hand.

"May I come for a dance later?" he asked.

"Not this evening. I've promised the next four----"

"There will, I trust, be a fifth?"