Now I suppose that "pamphlets" and "blankets don't really sound
much alike, but I was agitated.

"Quite right," said I. "Poor old things! They can't afford
proper fuel."

She rose to her feet.

"I was not joking," she said with horrible severity.

"Neither was I," I declared in humble apology. "Didn't you say
blankets?'"

"Pamphlets."

"Oh!"

There was a long pause. I glanced at Mrs. Hilary. Things had
not fallen out as happily as they might, but I did not mean to
give up yet.

"I see you're right," I said, still humbly. "To descend to such
means as I had in my mind is--"

"To throw away our true weapons," said she earnestly. (She sat
down again--good sign.)

"What we really need--" I began.