"What about the potting-shed?" said Berry. "We can easily move the more sensitive bulbs."
"If it's good," said Daphne, "we'll have it in the library."
"I object," said her husband. "I don't want to be alone with it after dark."
I smiled upon him. Then:
"Bur-rother," said I. "I like to think that I shall be always with you. Though in reality harsh leagues may lie between us, yet from the east wall of the library, just above the type-writer, I shall smile down upon your misshapen head a peaceful, forgiving smile. What a thought! And you will look UP from your London Mail and—"
"Don't," said Berry, emitting a hollow groan. "I am unworthy. Unworthy." He covered his face with his hands. "Where is the Indian Club?" he added brokenly, "I don't mean the one in Whitehall Court. The jagged one with nails in it. I would beat my breast. Unworthy."
"Conundrum," said Jonah. "Where were the worthy worthies worthy?"
"I know," said I. "They were worthy where they were."
"Where the blaze is," said Berry.
"The right answer," said Jonah, "is Eastbourne."