_Myself (feeling rather an ass, but outwardly gay):_ "I meant no
reflection on your cellar, Miss Rendall. I was merely aiming at
local colour."

At this point I fell abruptly silent, the laugh, as it were, frozen on my
lips. I gazed at my plate and then glanced furtively at my host (I was
giving them their choice). The next fragment of conversation which I
remember ran somewhat thus:--

_Myself (leading up deliberately to the test question):_ "There's one
thing I envy the natives of this happy island. What a wonderful show of
wild flowers they have! Do they make good grazing?"

_Mr. Rendall (again drily_): "If one happens to have ruminant tastes, I
believe they are edible."

_Miss Rendall (brightly, but evidently unkindly):_ "Mr. Merton was
probably thinking chiefly of the ruminant natives."

_Myself (keeping sternly to the point):_ "I was thinking chiefly of
sheep." _(With a direct and steady look at the laird.)_ "Are there many
sheep on this island?"

_Mr. Rendall (quite calmly):_ "A good many. Are you anxious for
statistics?"

_Myself (concealing my disappointment under a brave smile):_ "Oh no.
Please don't mistake me for an intelligent enquirer."