looking for a place to sit down. "It's very good for me--very good for
me. Let us take that sofa."

"Do you mean smoking's good for you?"

"No no--her not letting me. It's a great thing to have a wife who's so
sure of all the things one can do without. One might never find them out
one's self. She doesn't allow me to touch a cigarette." They took
possession of a sofa at a distance from the group of smokers, and St.
George went on: "Have you got one yourself?"

"Do you mean a cigarette?"

"Dear no--a wife."

"No; and yet I'd give up my cigarette for one."

"You'd give up a good deal more than that," St. George returned.
"However, you'd get a great deal in return. There's a something to be
said for wives," he added, folding his arms and crossing his outstretched
legs. He declined tobacco altogether and sat there without returning
fire. His companion stopped smoking, touched by his courtesy; and after
all they were out of the fumes, their sofa was in a far-away corner. It
would have been a mistake, St. George went on, a great mistake for them
to have separated without a little chat; "for I know all about you," he
said, "I know you're very remarkable. You've written a very
distinguished book."

"And how do you know it?" Paul asked.