Somewhat dazedly I turned in the direction of the _salle de danse_--so dazedly, in fact, that I collided with a young Frenchman who was watching the progress of _le jeu de boule_. This was hardly exhilarating. Of the seven beings gathered about the table, six were croupiers and the seventh was reading _Le Temps_. I collided roughly enough to knock a cigarette out of my victim's hand. "Toodle-oo--I mean _pardon, Monsieur. Je vous demande pardon._" "It's quite all right," he said, smiling. "I shouldn't have been standing so far out." I drew a case from my pocket. "At least," I said, "you'll allow me to replace the cigarette"--he took one with a laugh--"and to congratulate you upon your beautiful English." "Thank you very much. For all that, you knew I was French." "In another minute," said I, "I shall be uncertain. And I'm sure you'd deceive a Frenchman every time." "I do frequently. It amuses me to death. Only the other day I had to produce my passport to a merchant at Lyons before he'd believe I was a foreigner." "A foreigner?" I cried, with bulging eyes. "Then you are English." "I'm a pure-bred Spaniard," was the reply. "I tell you, it's most diverting. Talk about ringing the changes. I had a great time during the War. I was a perfect mine of information. It wasn't strictly accurate, but Germany didn't know that. As a double-dyed traitor, they found me extremely useful. As a desirable neutral, I cut a great deal of ice. And now I'm loafing. I used to take an interest in the prevention of crime, but I've grown lazy." For a moment or two we stood talking. Then I asked him to come to our table in the dancing-room. He declined gracefully. "I'm Spanish enough to dislike Jazz music," he said. We agreed to meet at the Club on the following day, and I rejoined Berry to tell him what he had missed. I found the fifth dance in full swing and my brother-in-law in high dudgeon. As I sat down, he exploded. "This blasted breath-bag is a fraud. If you blow it up tight, it's like trying to sit on a barrel. If you fill it half full, you mustn't move a muscle, or the imprisoned air keeps shifting all over the place till one feels sick of one's stomach. In either case it's as hard as petrified bog-oak. If you only leave an imperial pint in the vessel, it all goes and gathers in one corner, thus conveying to one the impression that one is sitting one's self upon a naked chair with a tennis-ball in one's hip-pocket. If one puts the swine behind one, it shoves one off the seat altogether. It was during the second phase that one dropped or let fall one's cigar into one's champagne. One hadn't thought that anything could have spoiled either, but one was wrong." I did what I could to soothe him, but without avail. "I warn you," he continued, "there's worse to come. Misfortunes hunt in threes. First we fool and are fooled over that rotten villa. Now this balloon lets me down. You wait."