surely heard of Tennyson's Idylls of the King?"

"Oh, _those_! Why, my dear old chap; Tennyson's Idylls of the
King! Well, I should say! Have I heard of Tennyson's Idylls of the
King? Well, really! I suppose you haven't a copy with you on board by
any chance?"

"There is a copy in my kit-bag. The very one we used to read together.
Take it and keep it or throw it overboard. I don't want to see it
again."

Sam prospected among the shirts, collars and trousers in the bag and
presently came upon a morocco-bound volume. He laid it beside him
on the lounge.

"Little by little, bit by bit," he said, "I am beginning to form a sort
of picture of this girl, this--what was her name again? Bennett--this
Miss Bennett. You have a wonderful knack of description. You make her
seem so real and vivid. Tell me some more about her. She wasn't keen on
golf, by any chance, I suppose?"

"I believe she did play. The subject came up once and she seemed rather
enthusiastic. Why?"

"Well, I'd much sooner talk to a girl about golf than poetry."

"You are hardly likely to be in a position to have to talk to
Wilhelmina Bennett about either, I should imagine."

"No, there's that, of course. I was thinking of girls in general. Some