As she was thinking these things she heard a ring, and the maid came in and said-- 'It's the gentleman that left the flowers, and could you see him for a minute?' 'Certainly.' Raggett came in. He looked just as extraordinary as he had at the Savoy and as difficult to place. His manner could not be said to express anything, for he had no manner, but his voice was the voice of a shy undergraduate, while his clothes, Edith thought, suggested a combination of a bushranger and a conjuror. His tie, evidently new, was a marvel, a sort of true-lover's knot of red patterned with green, strange beyond description. He seemed terrified. 'How very kind of you to come and see me,' she said in her sweetest voice, 'and these lovely flowers! They quite brighten one up.' 'I'm glad you think they're all right,' said Raggett in a low voice. 'They're beautiful. Fancy your plucking them all yourself! Where did you find these lovely lilies growing? I always fancied they were hot-house plants.' 'Oh, I was bicycling,' Raggett said. 'I just saw them, you know. I thought you might like them. How is Ottley?' 'Bruce is very well. Haven't you seen him lately?' 'Not very. I've been working so fearfully hard,' he said; 'at the British Museum chiefly. One doesn't run up against Bruce there much.' 'No. I suppose he hardly ever goes.' There was a pause. 'Won't you have some tea?' asked Edith. 'No, thank you. I never take it.' And there was another silence. Just as Edith was rather at a loss, and was beginning a sentence with-- 'Have you been--' he at the same time said-- 'Do you know--?' 'I beg your pardon,' said Edith. 'Oh, I beg yours.' 'Do say what you were going to say.' 'Oh, please finish your sentence.' 'I wasn't going to say anything.' 'Nor was I.' 'I was going to ask you if you'd been to the Savoy again lately?' 'No; I've only been there once in my life. It was a great event for me, Mrs Ottley.' 'Really?' He spoke with more confidence, but in a still lower voice. 'Yes. I met my ideal there.' He fixed on her an ardent but respectful glare. She smiled. 'I'm afraid,' continued Raggett, 'that I'm not amusing you much. I suppose you're very fond of wit and gaiety? I wasn't brought up in a very humorous atmosphere. I don't think I ever heard a joke till quite recently.' Edith laughed. 'My father,' he went on, 'used sometimes to say at night. "Now it's time for Bedfordshire," but I wasn't amused at that after ten years old. My family are really very serious as a whole. I should never dream of asking them even a riddle, because I'm sure they would give it up at once.' 'Did you say you heard one joke recently? What was it?' asked Edith. Raggett blushed and looked down. 'I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid I can't tell you, Mrs Ottley. Not that I forget it, but it isn't suited to your--well, to your atmosphere'--he looked round the room. 'Oh! Can't you _arrange_ it?' 'Impossible,' he said firmly. 'Quite impossible.' 'Oh well, of course--'