We were then treated to a brief résumé of the events leading up to a religious controversy of colossal dimensions which was at that moment threatening to engulf Scotland. Robin was deeply interested in the matter, and gave us his reasons for being so. He passed some scathing comments on the contumacy and narrow-mindedness of the sect who had the misfortune to be his opponents; and after that he proceeded to say a few words about Free Will and Predestination.
By this time lunch was over, but we sat on. I nodded gravely over my coffee, saying "Quite so" when occasion seemed to demand it. Kitty was completely out of her depth, but still maintained a brave appearance of interest. It was the Twins who brought the séance to a close. Placing their hands before their mouths, they with difficulty stifled a pair of cavernous yawns.
Next moment they were sorry. Robin stopped dead, flushed up, and said—
"Mrs Inglethwaite, I am sorry. I have been most inconsiderate and rude. I have wearied you all. The truth is," he continued quite simply, "it is so long since I sat at meat with friends, that I have lost the art of conversation. I just run on, like—like a leading article. I have not conversed with a woman, except once or twice across a counter, for nearly three years."
There was a rather tense pause. Then Dolly said—
"We're awfully sorry, Mr Fordyce. It was very rude of us. We quite understand now, don't we, Dilly?"
"Rather," said Dilly. "It was horrible of us, Mr Fordyce. But we thought you were just an ordinary bore."
"Children!" said Kitty.
"But what you have told us makes things quite different, doesn't it, Dolly?" continued Dilly.
"Quite—absolutely," said Dolly.