'I'm doing nothing of the kind. How can you say such a thing? I'm the soul of gravity. Do I ever laugh?'
As a matter of fact, there was a twinkle in her eyes even as she spoke, which he perceived.
'All right; laugh it out. I don't mind. All I can say is that it's gospel truth, and seems queer enough to me, though I daresay it's extremely comic to anybody else.'
'What seems comic? You haven't said a word.'
'Let's find a seat, and I'll say a good many.'
They found a seat--not the one she had been sitting on, but one which was sheltered by a tree. It was, perhaps, because it was in the shade that they temporarily ignored the fact that they were yet in Regent's Park. They were still pretty close together when he began to tell his tale.
'On the 23rd of February I had had a long day in the open. It was broiling hot, and in the evening I was glad to get back under cover. As I sat at my tent door, too tired even to smoke, I saw, right in front of me, my uncle.'
'Your uncle? Mr Burton? Where was this?'
'Perhaps three hundred miles north of Buluwayo.'
'But--what was your uncle doing there?'