The Brother of Daphne Part 15

"Am I dark or fair?"

I looked hopelessly at where I knew my companion was sitting. Then:

"Dark," I said, after a minute. "Dark, with long eyelashes and two brown eyes."

"Two!"

"Yes, I think so. You sound extravagant."

"Dimples?"

"I think not."

"Nose?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, please, teacher."

"Nonsense. What did you mean by 'yes'?"

"Sorry. I thought you were asking me if you'd got a nose, and I think you have. That's all. Sorry if I'm wrong, but when you're in the dark--"

"Yes, but what sort of nose?"

Here I got the near wheel up the bank again with great effect. When we had sorted ourselves:

"If you do that again," she said severely, "I'll leave you in the road--"

"In the what?"

"In the road to find your own way home as best you can."

"You have a hard nose," I said doggedly. I was almost sure that the ear-rings were pearl ear-rings.

There was a pause. The cold was making us silent. My fingers were getting numbed, but I dared not chafe them. I was afraid of the rug.

"You're not doing much for your drive," she said presently. "Do say something."

"You want to converse?"

"Yes."

"Very well, then. I didn't see you at Blackpool this year."

"That's curious."

"Yes, isn't it? What's your recreation? Forgive my seeming inquisitiveness, but I've just joined the staff of Who's Who."

"What?"

"No, who?"

"Recreation?"

"Yes. Hobby, amus.e.m.e.nt. Don't you collect cats or keep stamps or motor-boat or mountebank, I mean mountaineer, or anything?"

"No."

"Never mind. I expect you know Oldham rather well, don't you?"

"Not at all."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Because I don't know it either, and I thought--"

"What?"

"Well, you know, we ought to know Oldham--one of us ought to. It was a Unionist gain last time."

"Are you a Unionist?"

"My dear, you see in me--at least you would see in me, if it were not so dark--a high Tory."

"I thought you were a boy-scout."

"The two are not incompatible. Did you see that thing in Ally Sloper last week?"

"No, I didn't. Here's a gate."

I got down and opened it, and she drove carefully through.

It was the first of seven gates. By the time we had done six, I was becoming good at getting up and down, but rather tired. As I resumed my seat for the sixth time, I sighed. For the sixth time she returned me the reins.

"You don't take much care of your clothes, boy-scout," she said.

"Nearly all the men I know hitch up their trousers when they sit down."

"Perhaps they're sailors."

"No, they aren't."

"My dear girl, I don't know how you can see I don't, but I don't because I haven't got any on. I mean, I'm wearing breeches."