“But for all the sweetness and the glamour of it, we couldn’t stay on indefinitely, and I wondered what time it was, but didn’t ask—­anything to do with clocks and watches would have seemed a cold and mechanical sort of thing just then....  And when presently we both got up neither Carroll nor I asked to be allowed to call again in the morning to thank them for a charming hour....  And they seemed to feel the same as we did about it.  There was no ’hoping that we should meet again in London’—­neither an au revoir nor a good-bye—­just a tacit understanding that that hour should remain isolated, accepted like a good gift without looking the gift-horse in the mouth, single, unattached to any hours before or after—­I don’t know whether you see what I mean....  Give me a match somebody....

“And so we left, with no more than looks exchanged and finger-tips resting between the back of our hands and our lips for a moment.  We found our way out by ourselves, down that shallow-stepped staircase with the handsome handrail, and let ourselves out of the double door and grille, closing it softly.  We made for the village without speaking a word....  Heigho!...”

Loder had picked up the cigarette case again, but for all the way his eyes rested on it I doubt whether he really saw it.  I’m pretty sure he didn’t; I knew when he did by the glance he shot at me, as much as to say “I see you’re wondering where the cigarette case comes in."...  He resumed with another little laugh.

“Well,” he continued, “we got back to Rangon’s house.  I really don’t blame Rangon for the way he took it when we told him, you know—­he thought we were pulling his leg, of course, and he wasn’t having any; not he!  There were no English ladies in Darbisson, he said....  We told him as nearly as we could just where the house was—­we weren’t very precise, I’m afraid, for the village had been in darkness as we had come through it, and I had to admit that the cypress hedge I tried to describe where we’d met our friends was a good deal like other cypress hedges—­and, as I say, Rangon wasn’t taking any.  I myself was rather annoyed that he should think we were returning his hospitality by trying to get at him, and it wasn’t very easy either to explain in my French and Carroll’s Provencal that we were going to let the thing stand as it was and weren’t going to call on our charming friends again....  The end of it was that Rangon just laughed and yawned....

“‘I knew it was good, my wine,’ he said, ‘but—­’ a shrug said the rest.  ‘Not so good as all that,’ he meant....

“Then he gave us our candles, showed us to our rooms, shook hands, and marched off to his own room and the Prevosts.

“I dreamed of my old lady half the night.

“After coffee the next morning I put my hand into my pocket for my cigarette case and didn’t find it.  I went through all my pockets, and then I asked Carroll if he’d got it.

“‘No,’ he replied....  ’Think you left it behind at that place last night?’