“What kind of work?”
“Well,” said he, with an apologetic air, “I mean to extend my little handbook on ‘The Household Arts of the Neolithic Age’ into an authoritative and comprehensive treatise. I’ve been gathering material for years. I’m anxious to begin.”
“Begin to-morrow,” said Clementina. “And whenever you feel lonely come and read bits of it to Sheila and me.”
And thus came about the surprising and monstrous alliance between Clementina and Prehistoric Man. Dead men’s jawbones had some use after all.
“En voiture!” cried the guard.
“Good-bye, my dear Clementina,” said Quixtus, “we have had a memorable meeting.”
“We have, indeed. You are sending away three very happy people.”
“Why not four?”
But she only smiled wryly and said: “Good-bye, God bless you. And keep out of mischief,” and clambered into the train.
The train began to move, to the faint strains of the “Jewel Song” in Faust, and Sheila blew him kisses from the carriage window. He responded until the little white face disappeared. Then he thought of Clementina.