conversing Teutons and awakened the sleeper. He looked at her for a moment
with a dreamy smile, then leaped to his feet.

"A man has insulted me--he has been following me about and tried to get
into conversation with me."

"Dear me," said Septimus. "What shall I do? Shall I shoot him?"

"Don't be silly," she said seriously. "It's serious. I'd be glad if you'd
kindly walk up and down a little with me."

"With pleasure." They strolled away together. "But I _am_ serious. If you
wanted me to shoot him I'd do it. I'd do anything in the world for you.
I've got a revolver in my room."

She laughed, disclaiming desire for supreme vengeance.

"I only want to show the wretch that I am not a helpless woman," she
observed, with the bewildering illogic of the sex. And as she passed by the
offender she smiled down at her companion with all the sweetness of
intimacy and asked him why he carried a revolver. She did not point the
offender out, be it remarked, to the bloodthirsty Septimus.

"It belongs to Wiggleswick," he replied in answer to her question. "I
promised to take care of it for him."

"What does Wiggleswick do when you are away?"

"He reads the police reports. I take in _Reynolds_ and the _News of the
World_ and the illustrated _Police News_ for him, and he cuts them out and