"They're not necessary."
"But they're much more fun. Perhaps they'll have some old ones of
Vesuvius you can work in. Well, good-bye." And she drifted out.
I went on thinking.
"No," I said to myself, "I'm on the wrong tack." So I began again:—
"SOME YORKSHIRE POT-HOLES
"Lecture delivered before the Blanktown Literary and Philosophical Society, Tuesday, December 8th.
"My Lord Mayor, my Lords—"
"I don't want to interrupt," said Celia coming in suddenly, "but—oh, what's a pot-hole?"
"A curious underground cavern sometimes found in the North."
"Aren't caverns always underground? But you're busy. Will you be in for lunch?"