I turned the brave smile on to Miss Rendall. She smiled back very
slightly. In her face I seemed to read a trace of scepticism; as if
she did not quite agree with my modest estimate of myself, but at the
same time thought none the better of me. I would have given a good
deal to know exactly what was in her mind. Did she suspect something?
And if so, what?

I had one more shot. It was an inspiration which came to me at the end of
lunch when my host offered me a cigar.

"Matches?" he observed, pushing a box towards me.

Again I looked at him hard and asked,

"Have you such a thing as a _wax_ match?"

His eyebrows rose slightly.

"If you prefer to light a cigar with a wax match I daresay I can
find one."

"If Mr. Merton doesn't mind waiting for half an hour perhaps I might
discover a box in the store room," said Miss Rendall, and she added
demurely, "beside the champagne."

My only consolation was that I was making an idiot of myself in a
good cause.