"Oh, if that's it," she had said, her hand going as naturally to her pocket as if she had inherited the gesture as she had inherited her features or her name. So I had accepted her purse, having accepted only meals before, and Alf and Frank and I were of a marrow. The paper was in my breast pocket as we walked down to the stages to hire our boats. We were a largish party, but except for those in the boat in which I presently found myself--Evie, Kitty and Archie Merridew--I have no very clear recollection of who was there. I took one oar, Evie the other, Archie was not exercising himself physically; and he lay back in the steering seat with Kitty. It was hot; I should have liked to remove my coat; but I dreaded to part myself even by a yard from that paper. As it was my movements caused it to work up a little in my inside pocket; I saw a corner of it at the opening of the coat; it had the appearance of wishing to take a peep at Archie; and by-and-by Archie asked me why I didn't take my coat off. "Not clean shirt day, eh, Jeff?" he laughed, with the recollection of numerous brown-paper parcels in his eyes. He himself was taking extreme care of a pair of spotless flannels, and at one stage of the afternoon, I forget when, that suddenly struck me as almost funny enough to shriek aloud at--his care for his flannel bags and carelessness about everything else. It struck me as--I use the words quite literally--devilishly funny. It fascinated me, so that I could not keep from watching him. My eyes wandered from time to time to the other boats of our party and of other parties, moving on the shining river, but they always returned in less than a minute to him, irresistibly drawn. This _galgenhumor_ almost mastered me as the paper again crept up to take another peep at him as he lolled, this time with Evie by his side, for Kitty had taken the other oar. It needed so little, so little imagination to look forward and see, strung out into the future, the results of that irrefutable Evidence in my pocket--the inquest at which I should not even be called as a witness--the funeral I need attend only as a mourner--the shock--the hushing up--and the certainty of everybody that they knew all about it! It was all horribly, horribly perfect.... A picnic? Oh yes, this was a picnic.... "_Do_ take your coat off, Jeff--you'll be so much more comfortable--why, you're streaming!" This came from Kitty, who had the air of publicly possessing me, though only partly by reason of having paid for me, I think. "Oh, I'm quite all right--really quite comfortable," I replied. And then I thought of Evie, and that horrible humour rolled away from me. Evie. What about her? She spoke even then. "Jeff's doing _all_ the work," she said. "I'm sure Kitty and I could manage the boat quite well." "Better stay as we are," I replied. "Archie and I wouldn't trim." Yes, what about Evie?