matter. Note the appropriate simile. Install what cistern you
please. If approached properly, I may consent to test the work
when complete. Mind you spare no expense."

"We don't propose to," said Daphne.

Berry regarded her sorrowfully.

"I suppose," he said, "I suppose you know what word will be found
at the post-mortem graven upon my heart?"

"What?" said Daphne, stifling a yawn.

"Plunge."


It was quite a good day to choose a bath. True, it was winter.
But then the sun was shining out of a clear, blue sky, there was
a rare freshness in the London air, and beneath me- for I was
crossing Westminster Bridge- old Thames marched all a-glitter. I
watched his passage gratefully. It was that of a never-ending
band. Playing all the way, too, but silently. Yet, the music
was there. The pity was that one could not hear it. The pomp,
the swagger, the swing of the Guards, the shifting movement, the
bright array- all these were unmistakable. The very lilt of the
air made itself felt. Very cheery. Certainly, the river was en
fete.

It had been arranged that the selection of an appropriate bath
should be made by Daphne, Jonah, and me. When I came down to