THE COWARD.
It is impossible to describe to you exactly how Herbert looked. But shame, defiance and unconcern were the principal ingredients in his expression as he stood on the kerb and stared across the road.
He started guiltily as I approached.
"Hallo, Herbert!" I began with my customary bonhomie.
"Hallo!" he said dismally.
"What are you doing here?" I asked sternly.
"Nothing," said Herbert. "Have you ever noticed what a fine building that post-office is?"
"No," I said; "neither have you. Herbert, you are concealing something from me. What have I done to deserve it? Have I not enjoyed your confidence these many years, and have you ever known me betray it? Is it marriage that has changed you thus? Is it—"
"Shut up," said Herbert. "I'll tell you, if you stop talking."
I stopped talking.
"It's this way. My wife and I have had a little discussion. And I stated my belief that there was nothing in an ordinary way that a woman could do that a man couldn't. Whereupon she defied me to go out and—er—buy a bloater. As you see, I have gone out, and—er—"
"Yes," I said, "you have gone out. Splendid of you! And all that remains to be done is to buy a bloater. Why not? Yonder, if I mistake not, is the shop of a bloaterer."
"But a bloater!" said Herbert. "It isn't fair. If she'd said some salmon, or a lobster, or even a pound of sausages; or if she'd allowed me to 'phone for it. It's not as if I'd ever had any practice. It's not decent to start a beginner on a hand-bought bloater."
"Tush!" I said. "This is not manly. Remember, our sex is at stake. Come!"
I took him by the arm. He advanced under protest.
Four paces from the shop he stopped abruptly and laughed—a horrible laugh.
"Do you know," he said, "I do believe I've come out without a cent on me."
"I don't believe it for a moment," I said, "but as it happens I can lend you pounds and pounds—almost enough for two bloaters."
Herbert reluctantly found some money in one of the seven pockets he had not felt in. Then we advanced once more.
This time there was no going back. Right into the body of the fishmonger's we strode and stood firmly opposite the salesman.
"Now," I whispered tensely.
But Herbert hesitated, and even as he wobbled the salesman began his suggestions.
"Yes, Sir? Lobsters or prawns, Sir? Some very good salmon this morning—very fine fish indeed, Sir."
"Er, as a matter of fact," said Herbert, "we just wanted to know if you would be so kind as to direct us to the nearest post-office?—the one just across the road, you know," he added nervously.
"Herbert," I said in his private ear, "be a man."
Herbert pulled himself together. "Would you," he said to the salesman, "would you please let me look at some b-b-blobsters?"