unembarrassed interlocutor who made no conversational leads of her own.
After a few mouthfuls he pushed his plate away from him. "Then let's
have up the ice pudding," he said with a faint note of bitterness.

"But have you finished--?"

"The ice pudding!" he exploded wrathfully. "The ice pudding!"

Lady Hardy sat for a moment, a picture of meek distress. Then, her
delicate eyebrows raised, and the corners of her mouth drooping, she
touched the button of the silver table-bell.




CHAPTER THE THIRD

THE DEPARTURE

Section 1

No wise man goes out upon a novel expedition without misgivings. And
between their first meeting and the appointed morning both Sir Richmond
Hardy and Dr. Martineau were the prey of quite disagreeable doubts about
each other, themselves, and the excursion before them. At the time
of their meeting each had been convinced that he gauged the other
sufficiently for the purposes of the proposed tour. Afterwards each
found himself trying to recall the other with greater distinctness
and able to recall nothing but queer, ominous and minatory traits.
The doctor's impression of the great fuel specialist grew ever darker,