"Where d'you keep them?"—suspiciously.
"Chancery Lane Safe Deposit," was the reply. "When I die I shall leave them to the Wallace Collection. The shoes I wore at the first night of Buzz-Buzz are already promised to the Imperial Institute."
"When you've quite finished," said Daphne, "I'll suggest that we go up for the day on Friday. I don't mean to-morrow, but the one after."
"It's a little early in the year," said I. "All the same, there's no reason why we shouldn't go up again later on. It's always open."
"If the weather holds," said Jonah, "it will be looking wonderful."
Oxford. Some reference had been made to the city while we sat at dessert, and in the midst of a banana Jill had confessed that she had never been there. The rest of us knew the place well. Berry had been at Magdalen, Jonah at New College, and I had fleeted four fat years carelessly as a member of "The House." But, while my sister had spent many hours there during my residence, Jill had not once visited her brother—largely, no doubt, because there was a disparity of six years, in her favour, between their ages.
"I warn you," said Berry, "that I may break down. My return to the haunts of early innocence may be too much for me. Yes," he added, "I shouldn't be at all surprised if I were to beat my breast somewhere near The Martyrs' Memorial."
"An appropriate locality," said Jonah. "If my memory serves me, it was for a crime committed almost under the shadow of that monument that you were irrevocably sent down."
Berry selected a cigar before replying. Then—
"Only a malignant reptile would refer to that miscarriage of justice. It was not my fault that the animal which I employed exceeded its instructions and, as it were, pushed on after attaining its objective."