"Will you smoke?" said Lord Brethe, producing a cigar-case.
"Ah, thanks," said Berry. With the tail of my eye I saw that it was a Corona Corona. By this time I had taken the pipe down. It was choked with a regular wad of dirt. I remembered bitterly that, when I left them at Strasburg, I had begged them never to fill up without a filter.
"So that was the obstruction?" said his lordship.
I straightened my back.
"Comes of not using a filter, my lord."
Berry's brows contracted. He touched the wad with his foot. "No," he said loftily. "This has clearly worked in from the engine. It is a piece of valve-packing."
I sighed. Heaven only knows what he thought he meant. But old Brethe lapped it up. Heavily I began to replace the pipe. As I unscrewed them, I put the nuts on the step. Now one was missing. It had rolled off.
"Lost something?" said Berry.
"A nut, sir. I shall see it directly."
"Never put anything where it can roll off, man. When you are executing a repair, always lay your tools on the ground and mark the place. It's quicker in the long run. Found it?"