When we were in the car again my host was in wild spirits at
having got his job over. 'A ripping speech, Twisdon,' he said.
'Now, you're coming home with me. I'm all alone, and if you'll
stop a day or two I'll show you some very decent fishing.'
We had a hot supper--and I wanted it pretty badly--and then
drank grog in a big cheery smoking-room with a crackling wood
fire. I thought the time had come for me to put my cards on the
table. I saw by this man's eye that he was the kind you can trust.
'Listen, Sir Harry,' I said. 'I've something pretty important to
say to you. You're a good fellow, and I'm going to be frank.
Where on earth did you get that poisonous rubbish you talked tonight?'
His face fell. 'Was it as bad as that?' he asked ruefully. 'It did
sound rather thin. I got most of it out of the PROGRESSIVE MAGAZINE
and pamphlets that agent chap of mine keeps sending me. But you
surely don't think Germany would ever go to war with us?'
'Ask that question in six weeks and it won't need an answer,' I
said. 'If you'll give me your attention for half an hour I am going
to tell you a story.'
I can see yet that bright room with the deers' heads and the old
prints on the walls, Sir Harry standing restlessly on the stone curb
of the hearth, and myself lying back in an armchair, speaking. I
seemed to be another person, standing aside and listening to my
own voice, and judging carefully the reliability of my tale.
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