to reply, "Yes, dear: what time shall I order the car?" as though
they had been driving together every evening of their married
life.

"What have you been doing today?" Clowes asked, sipping his tea
and looking out of the window. He had shut himself up in his
bedroom with a headache and his wife had not seen him since the
night before.

"This morning I motored into Amesbury to change the library
books and to enquire after Canon Bodington. I saw Mrs. Bodington
and Phoebe and George--,"

"Who's George?"

"Their son in the Navy, don't you remember? The Sapphire is in
dry dock--"

"How old is he?"

"Nineteen," said Mrs. Clowes.

"Oh. Go on."

"I don't remember doing anything else except get some stamps at
the post office. Stay, now I come to think of it, I met Mr.
Maturin, but I didn't speak to him. He only took off his hat to
me, Bernard. He is seventy-four."

"Dull sort of morning you seem to have had," said Bernard Clowes.