It was a small man, red of head and bright of eye. He wore his cap at the
back of his head, so as to exhibit to an admiring world a carefully-
cultured curl of the "quiff" variety, which was plastered across his
forehead with a great expenditure of grease. His tie was a ready-made bow
of shot-colours, red, green, blue and purple, and from his glittering
watch-chain hung many fanciful medals, like soles upon a line.

"Brother-in-law to me," he remarked, jerking his thumb towards the
back-rushing lights of Exeter.

"Who?" I inquired.

"That young feller I was talking to just now. Didn't you see me talking to
a young feller?"

"Oh, yes, I believe I did hear you talking to somebody."

"Well, him. Married a sister to me, so he's my brother-in-law, ain't he?"

"Certainly."

"Well, you're wrong then. He's only a half-brother-in-law, because she is
only a half-sister to me, her ma marrying my old man. Understand?"

I said I did and pulled up my rug as a signal that I was going to sleep and
the conversation was at an end.

"Anyhow, whatever he is, he's good enough for her."