“That’s it, sir. It’s an old sayin’ an’ a true one—Keep a thing ten years an’ it’ll come in useful at larst.”
“Fancy you forgetting anything, Arthur!” cried his wife. “You are the one man in the world whom I should never have suspected of missing an item like that—it might have been so important.”
“Some places have a phenomenal effect on the memory, my dear. I went to Plymouth with the special object of jotting down all the Sans Souci’s features, but I took a stroll on the Hoe, and my mind at once became utterly obtuse to every consideration save one.”
“Oh, don’t be silly! How could I guess you would bring Peter’s postcard in evidence against me?”
But she blushed most delightfully, so the recollection of that evening at Plymouth must have been very pleasant, and present happiness is apt to shed its golden light on the days that are past.
THE END
FOOTNOTE:
| [1] | Pronounced “Neela Mool–la,” and meaning literally, “Blue Priest.” |