"You understand, Myra? Samuel will lean the opposite way to what he thinks he ought to lean. Tell Ernest."
"But suppose you think you ought to lean the proper way, the way they do in Christiania," said Myra, "and you lean the opposite way, then what happens?"
"That is what Samuel will probably show us," I said.
"I am going to turn to the left," he said. "Watch carefully. Of course, I may not bring it off the first time."
"I can't help thinking you will," said Myra.
"It depends what you call bringing it off," I said. "We have every hope of—I mean we don't think our money will be wasted. Have you got the opera-glasses and the peppermints and the programme, darling? Then you may begin, Samuel."
Simpson started down the slope a little unsteadily. For one moment I feared that there might be an accident before the real accident, but he recovered himself nobly and sped to the bottom. Then a cloud of snow shot up, and for quite a long time there was no Simpson.
"I knew he wouldn't disappoint us," gurgled Myra.
We slid down to him and helped him up.