_In case the fact has not already come to your notice, we hasten to inform you that as a result of the drawing, which took place on Monday last, one of the Premium Bonds, which we yesterday dispatched to you per registered post, has won the first prize of fr. 500,000 (five hundred thousand francs)._ _By way of confirmation, we beg to enclose a cutting from the official Bulletin._ _We should, perhaps, point out that, in all announcements of the results of drawings, the '0' or 'zero,' which for some reason invariably precedes the number of a Premium Bond, is disregarded._ _Awaiting the pleasure of your instructions,_ _We beg to remain, dear sir, Your obedient servants,_ ---------- * * * * * It was perhaps five hours later that my memory again responded, and I turned to Adèle. "The dam burst," said I, "at the very moment when you were going to tell me what you had been about to say when the first tire went outside Bidache. Sounds like 'The House that Jack built,' doesn't it?" "Oh, I know," said Adèle, laughing. "But it's no good now. I was going to say----" The door opened, and Falcon came in with a wire. I picked up the form and weighed it thoughtfully. "Wonderfully quick," I said. "It was half-past two when I was at the Bank, and I couldn't have been at the Post Office before a quarter to three. I looked at my watch. Just under four hours." "The Bank?" said Adèle, staring. "But you said you were going to the Club." I nodded. "I know. I was anxious to raise no false hopes. All the same, I couldn't help feeling that half a million francs were worth a tenpenny wire. Therefore I telegraphed to Jonah. His answer will show whether that tenpenny wire was worth half a million francs." My wife snatched the form from my hand and tore it open. It was very short. _Bonds repurchased Jonah._ * * * * * But my memory never recovered from the two-fold slight. To this day I cannot remember to ask Adèle what it was that she had been about to say when the first tire burst outside Bidache. CHAPTER X HOW BERRY SOUGHT COMFORT IN VAIN, AND NOBBY SLEPT UPON A QUEEN'S BED. Time was getting on. The season at Pau was approaching the end of its course. Already villas and flats and servants were being engaged for the winter to come. We had been asked definitely whether we proposed to return and, if so, whether we wished again to occupy the excellent villa we had. Not knowing what answer to make to the first question, we had passed to the second--somewhat illogically. The second had proved more heatedly disputable than the first. Finally Jill had looked up from a letter to Piers and put in her oar with a splash. "The villa's all right," she announced. "Everyone says it's the best, and so should we, if we didn't live in it. It's what's inside that's so awful. Even one decent sofa would make all the difference." In silence we pondered her words. At length--