had been brief and our conversation conventional; but it is the
intervals between the meeting that do the real damage. Absence--I do
not claim the thought as my own--makes the heart grow fonder. And now,
thanks to Ukridge's amazing idiocy, a barrier had been thrust between
us. Lord knows, the business of fishing for a girl's heart is
sufficiently difficult and delicate without the addition of needless
obstacles. To cut out the naval miscreant under equal conditions would
have been a task ample enough for my modest needs. It was terrible to
have to re-establish myself in the good graces of the professor before
I could so much as begin to dream of Phyllis. Ukridge gave me no balm.

"Well, after all," he said, when I pointed out to him quietly but
plainly my opinion of his tactlessness, "what does it matter? Old
Derrick isn't the only person in the world. If he doesn't want to know
us, laddie, we just jolly well pull ourselves together and stagger
along without him. It's quite possible to be happy without knowing old
Derrick. Millions of people are going about the world at this moment,
singing like larks out of pure light-heartedness, who don't even know
of his existence. And, as a matter of fact, old horse, we haven't time
to waste making friends and being the social pets. Too much to do on
the farm. Strict business is the watchword, my boy. We must be the
keen, tense men of affairs, or, before we know where we are, we shall
find ourselves right in the gumbo.

"I've noticed, Garny, old horse, that you haven't been the whale for
work lately that you might be. You must buckle to, laddie. There must
be no slackness. We are at a critical stage. On our work now depends
the success of the speculation. Look at those damned cocks. They're
always fighting. Heave a stone at them, laddie, while you're up.
What's the matter with you? You seem pipped. Can't get the novel off