"Dimbie is not bad as men go. But give him a few years; he will be as disagreeable as the rest."
"I met a very nice man the other day," I said, refusing to be annoyed. "It was just before my accident—a Professor Leighrail."
"Professor Leighrail!" A great astonishment lay in Nanty's eyes. "A very thin man?"
"Yes, he invited us to look at his ribs. His wife, Amabella, is dead."
"Amabella dead?" she repeated.
I nodded.
"He took up ballooning, as he thought it would be the quickest way of ending himself."
Nanty started, and then poured herself out another cup of tea.
"Do you know him?"
"I knew him some years ago."