I tried again, with this result:—
"Dear Sir,—In sending you a cheque in payment of last quarter's rent I feel I must tell you how comfortable we are here. The only inconvenience—and it is indeed a trifling one, dear Sir—which we have experienced is in connection with the bathroom. Elegantly appointed and spacious as this room is, commodious as we find the actual bath itself, yet we feel that in the matter of the waste-pipe the high standard of efficiency so discernible elsewhere is sadly lacking. Were I alone I should not complain; but unfortunately there are two of us; and, for the second one, the weariness of waiting while the waters of the first bath exude drop by drop is almost more than can be borne. I speak with knowledge, for it is I who——"
I tore the letter up and turned to Celia.
"I'm a fool," I said. "I've just thought of something which will save me all this rotten business every morning."
"I'm so glad. What is it?"
"Why, of course—in future I will go to the bath first."
And I do. It is a ridiculously simple solution, and I cannot think why it never occurred to me before.