"But a bloater!" said Herbert. "It isn't fair. If she'd said some
salmon, or a lobster, or even a pound of sausages; or if she'd allowed
me to 'phone for it. It's not as if I'd ever had any practice. It's
not decent to start a beginner on a hand-bought bloater."

"Tush!" I said. "This is not manly. Remember, our sex is at stake.
Come!"

I took him by the arm. He advanced under protest.

Four paces from the shop he stopped abruptly and laughed--a horrible
laugh.

"Do you know," he said, "I do believe I've come out without a cent on
me."

"_I_ don't believe it for a moment," I said, "but as it happens I can
lend you pounds and pounds--almost enough for two bloaters."

Herbert reluctantly found some money in one of the seven pockets he
had not felt in. Then we advanced once more.

This time there was no going back. Right into the body of the
fishmonger's we strode and stood firmly opposite the salesman.

"_Now_," I whispered tensely.

But Herbert hesitated, and even as he wobbled the salesman began his
suggestions.