"Uncle Joseph," he said, "I was talking to a little girl on Hampstead Heath to-day."
"More fool you," was the genial response. "What were you talking about?"
"You," said Philip, a little unexpectedly.
Uncle Joseph looked up.
"Oh," he said. "Why was I so honoured?"
Philip explained, in his deliberate fashion.
"She was that little girl we passed on Sunday," he said, "sitting on a gate. She smiled at me, and you told me it was only an instinct. A prebby—a prebby—"
Uncle Joseph assisted him.
"—predatory instinct. Well, I met her again one day, and I told her what you said. I explained that you knew all women were dangerous, and were the great stumbling-block to a man's work in life. Also parasites."
Uncle Joseph smiled grimly.