Culch. We shan’t get over it for some hours yet.

Podb. I didn’t mean the Pass, I meant—­(hesitating)—­well, your little affair with Miss PRENDERGAST, you know.

Culch. My little affair?  Get over? (He suddenly understands.) Oh, ah, to be sure.  Yes, thank you, my dear fellow, it is not making me particularly unhappy. [He goes into a fit of silent laughter.

Podb. Glad to hear it. (To himself.) ’Jove, if he only knew what I know! [He chuckles.

Culch. You don’t appear to be exactly heartbroken?

Podb. I? why should I be—­about what?

Culch. (with an affectation of reserve).  Exactly, I was forgetting. (To himself.) It’s really rather humorous. (He laughs again.) Ha, we’re beginning to go down now.  Hey for Italy—­la bella Italia! (The diligence takes the first curve.) Good Heavens, what a turn!  We’re going at rather a sharp pace for downhill, eh?  I suppose these Swiss drivers know what they’re about, though.

Podb. Oh, yes, generally—­when they’re not drunk.  I can only see this fellow’s boots—­but they look to me a trifle squiffy.

Culch. (inspecting them, anxiously).  He does seem to drive very recklessly. Look at those leaders—­heading right for the precipice....  Ah, just saved it!  How we do lurch in swinging round!

Podb. Topheavy—­I expect, too much luggage on board—­have another sandwich?

Culch. Not for me, thanks.  I say, I wonder if it’s safe, having no parapet, only these stone posts, eh?

Pod. Safe enough—­unless the wheel catches one—­it was as near as a toucher just then—­aren’t you going to smoke?  No? I am.  By the way, what were you so amused about just now, eh?

Culch. Was I amused? (The vehicle gives another tremendous lurch.) Really, this is too horrible!

Podb. (with secret enjoyment).  We’re right enough, if the horses don’t happen to stumble.  That off-leader isn’t over sure-footed—­did you see that? (Culch. shudders.) But what’s the joke about Miss PRENDERGAST?

Culch. (irritably).  Oh, for Heaven’s sake, don’t bother about that now.  I’ve something else to think about.  My goodness, we were nearly over that time!  What are you looking at?

Podb. (who has been leaning forward).  Only one of the traces—­they’ve done it up with a penny ball of string, but I daresay it will stand the strain.  You aren’t half enjoying the view, old fellow.

Culch. Yes, I am.  Magnificent!—­glorious!—­isn’t it?

Podb. Find you see it better with your eyes shut?  But I say, I wish you’d explain what you were sniggering at.

Culch. Take my advice, and don’t press me, my dear fellow; you may regret it if you do!