she might have something to write about."

"But then she would know enough to keep still," said Rangely.

"Oh, a woman never knows enough to keep still," Bently retorted. "It is
damned amusing to hear the average American----"

A chorus of protestations arose.

"We'll have nothing about the 'Average American,' Bently!"

"Start somebody else on his hobby," suggested Ainsworth; "that's the
only way to choke Bently off. Where's Fenton? I never knew him quiet
for so long in my life."

Arthur had been watching his companions and smoking in silence. He
smiled brilliantly at Ainsworth's challenge.

"I'm overwhelmed by Bently's oaths," he said. "He outdoes himself
to-night."

"When it comes time for Tom's epitaph," observed Rangely, "I shall
suggest that it be a dash."

"Why do you swear so?" inquired Ainsworth. "Don't you think it in
execrable taste?"

"Taste?" laughed Bently. "Yes; it's so far above all taste as to be a--
sight higher and bigger."