P.S.—There is another road by Bidache, but I should not come by that because it is longer and not so easy to follow. “You see,” explained Cicely, “the two outstanding characteristics of Mrs. Medallion are, first of all, her contrariness, and, secondly, her conviction that all men are fools. Well, I’ve given her a glorious opportunity of indulging the former, and I’ve supported the latter by a piece of documentary evidence of which she will talk for years. In fact, I should think she’d have it framed. After this, she’d rather die than come to Biarritz. The bare idea of your waiting for hours at the entrance to the hotel, not daring to go away in case she arrives, will give her a better appetite for lunch than any Hula Hula that ever was shaken.” Captain Rage lifted his eyes to heaven. “Trust a woman,” he said, “to put it across a woman. Of course, I take off my hat. It’s a work of art. That postscript alone. . . .” He ripped the sheet from the pad, folded it very carefully, and, after staring upon it, took out a cigarette-case and bestowed the paper inside. “Well, that’s that,” said Cicely, getting upon her feet. “Here,” said Toby. “You’re—you’re not thinkin’ of going, are you?” “Why not?” said Cicely calmly. “We came here to fix up that letter, and now it’s fixed.” Toby swallowed. “I know,” he said. “But it seems a pity to rush off. I—I rather like this spot. Look at the sea over there, all—all glassy. Reminds me of some hymn.” By a superhuman effort Miss Voile maintained her gravity. “I’ve got to get back,” she said. “Oh, not yet,” said Toby. “Not yet. Besides, I—I’ve—I wanted to tell you about Rachel.” Miss Voile appeared to hesitate. Then she sat down. “What about Rachel?” she said. “Well, I—I made up Rachel,” said Toby. “You know. Invented the nymph.” He stared uneasily upon his finger-nails. “God knows why. I think I had some idea of makin’ you think I was an old campaigner, with a trick or two up his sleeve.” He hesitated. “Well, I’d like you to know I’m not. I’ve danced attendance once or twice—most men have—and been properly stung for my pains. But that’s as far as it’s gone. I’ve—I’ve never been engaged—before.” “I’m glad you told me,” said Cicely. She turned a glowing face. “I knew it, of course.” Toby started. “All along. But I’m glad you told me.” There was a long silence. At length— “You remember,” said Toby, “what you said yesterday about my not letting you down?” Cicely nodded.