crises. We have only ourselves to blame if we are ignorant of what to do
before the doctor comes, of how to make a dainty winter coat for baby
out of father's last year's under-vest and of the best method of coping
with the cold mutton. But nobody yet has come forward with practical
advice as to the correct method of behaviour to be adopted when a
lift-attendant starts crying. And Sally and her companion, as a
consequence, for a few moments merely stared at each other helplessly.

"Poor darling!" said Sally, finding speech. "Ask him what's the
matter."

The young man looked at her doubtfully.

"You know," he said, "I don't enjoy chatting with this blighter. I mean
to say, it's a bit of an effort. I don't know why it is, but talking
French always makes me feel as if my nose were coming off. Couldn't we
just leave him to have his cry out by himself?"

"The idea!" said Sally. "Have you no heart? Are you one of those fiends
in human shape?"

He turned reluctantly to Jules, and paused to overhaul his vocabulary.

"You ought to be thankful for this chance," said Sally. "It's the only
real way of learning French, and you're getting a lesson for nothing.
What did he say then?"

"Something about losing something, it seemed to me. I thought I caught
the word perdu."