"I can't think why you ever got into such a hirsute set, Simpson. He probably wants your compass. Give it to him and let him withdraw." Ernest, having decided that Simpson was not worth knowing, withdrew, and we resumed our conversation. "When we elderly married folk have retired," I went on, "and you gay young bachelors sit up over a last cigar to discuss your conquests, has not Thomas unbent to you, Samuel, and told you of his hopes and fears?" "He told me last night he was afraid he was going bald, and he said he hoped he wasn't." "That's a bad sign," said Myra. "What did you say?" "I said I thought he was." With some difficulty I got up from my seat in the snow and buckled on my skis. "Come on, let's forget Thomas for a bit. Samuel is now going to show us the Christiania Turn." Simpson, all eagerness, began to prepare himself. "I said I would, didn't I? I was doing it quite well yesterday. This is a perfect little slope for it. You understand the theory of it, don't you?" "We hope to after the exhibition." "Well, the great thing is to lean the opposite way to the way you think you ought to lean. That's what's so difficult." "You understand, Myra? Samuel will lean the opposite way to what he thinks he ought to lean. Tell Ernest." "But suppose you think you ought to lean the _proper_ way, the way they do in Christiania," said Myra, "and you lean the opposite way, then what happens?" "That is what Samuel will probably show us," I said. Simpson was now ready. "I am going to turn to the left," he said. "Watch carefully. Of course, I may not bring it off the first time." "I can't help thinking you will," said Myra. "It depends what you call bringing it off," I said. "We have every hope of--I mean we don't think our money will be wasted. Have you got the opera-glasses and the peppermints and the programme, darling? Then you may begin, Samuel." Simpson started down the slope a little unsteadily. For one moment I feared that there might be an accident before the real accident, but he recovered himself nobly and sped to the bottom. Then a cloud of snow shot up, and for quite a long time there was no Simpson. "I knew he wouldn't disappoint us," gurgled Myra. We slid down to him and helped him up. "You see the idea," he said. "I'm afraid I spoilt it a little at that end, but----" "My dear Samuel, you improved it out of all knowledge." "But that actually _is_ the Christiania Turn." "Oh, _why_ don't we live in Christiania?" exclaimed Myra to me. "Couldn't we possibly afford it?" "It must be a happy town," I agreed. "How the old streets must ring and ring again with jovial laughter." "Shall I do it once more?" "_Can_ you?" said Myra, clasping her hands eagerly. "Wait here," said Samuel, "and I'll do it quite close to you." Myra unstrapped her camera.