About a fortnight later than the last recorded incident two men were
smoking on the lawn at Millstead Manor. One was Morewood; the other had
arrived only the day before and was the Sir Roderick Ayre to whom
reference has been made.

"Upon my word, Morewood," said Sir Roderick, as the painter sat down by
him, "one can't go anywhere without meeting you!"

"That's since you took to intellectual company," said Morewood,
grinning.

"I haven't taken to intellectual company," said Sir Roderick, with
languid indignation.

"In the general upheaval, intellectual company has risen in the scale."

"And so has at last come up to your pinnacle?"

"And so has reached me, where I have been for centuries."

"A sort of perpetual dove on Ararat?"

"My dear Morewood, I am told you know everything except the Bible. Why
choose your allusions from the one unfamiliar source?"

"And how do you like your new neighbor?"

"What new neighbor?"

"Intellect."