"What do you do," said I, "when you come to a level-crossing with the
gates shut? "

"I don't," said Miss Childe.

I was still working this out, when my companion slowed down and brought
the car to a standstill in front of a high white gate bearing the legend
"Private," and keeping a thin brown road that ran for a little way
between fair meadows before plunging into a swaying beechwood.

"Anything the matter?" I asked.

Miss Childe laid a hand on my arm.

"Be an angel," she said in a caressing voice.

"Certainly," said I. "With or without wings?"

"And open the gate, so that----"

"I know," I cried, "I know. Don't tell me. 'So that the automobile may
pass unobstructed between the gate-posts.' Am I right?"

"How on earth did you know?"

"Instinct." I open the door and stepped backwards into the road. "I'm
always like this before eating kidneys," I added.

As I re-entered the car--