Paul, "and he could have exhausted all the possibilities of human
life."

Colonel Winwood smiled courteously. "We have a bond in Balzac," said
he. "But I must go. My sister said I mustn't tire you." He rose.
"We're having a lot of people down here this week for the shooting.
There'll be good sport. Pity you're not well enough to join us."

Paul smiled. He had one of his flashes of tact, "I'm afraid," said
he modestly, "that I've never fired off a gun in my life."

"What?" cried the Colonel.

"It's true."

Colonel Winwood looked at him once more. "It's not many young men,"
said he, "who would dare to make such a confession."

"But what is the good of lying?" asked Paul, with the eyes of a
cherub.

"None that I know of," replied the Colonel. He returned to his chair
and rested his hand on the back. "You play golf, anyhow," said he,
pointing to the brown canvas bag in the corner.

"Oh, yes," said Paul.

"Any good?"

"Fair to middling."