“The photograph I was speaking of at the dinner last night.” “Oh, the one your friend found--of some girl.” “It wasn’t a friend; it was me. And it wasn’t some girl; it was you.” Here the waiter intruded, bearing _hors d’œuvres_. Kay lingered over her selection, but the passage of time had not the effect of diverting her host from his chosen topic. Kay began to feel that nothing short of an earthquake would do that, and probably not even an earthquake unless it completely wrecked the grill-room. “I remember the first time I saw that photograph.” “I wonder which it was,” said Kay casually. “It was----” “So long as it wasn’t the one of me sitting in a sea shell at the age of two, I don’t mind.” “It was----” “They told me that if I was very good and sat very still, I should see a bird come out of the camera. I don’t believe it ever did. And why they let me appear in a costume like that, even at the age of two, I can’t imagine.” “It was the one of you in a riding habit, standing by your horse.” “Oh, that one?... I think I will take eggs after all.” “Eggs? What eggs?” “I don’t know. _Œufs à la_ something, weren’t they?” “Wait!” said Sam. He spoke as one groping his way through a maze. “Somehow or other we seem to have got onto the subject of eggs. I don’t want to talk about eggs.” “Though I’m not positive it was à la something. I believe it was _œufs Marseillaises_ or some word like that. Anyhow, just call the waiter and say eggs.” Sam called the waiter and said eggs. The waiter appeared not only to understand but to be gratified. “The first time I saw that photograph----” he resumed. “I wonder why they call those eggs _œufs Marseillaises_,” said Kay pensively. “Do you think it’s a special sort of egg they have in Marseilles.” “I couldn’t say. You know,” said Sam, “I’m not really frightfully interested in eggs.” “Have you ever been in Marseilles?” “Yes, I went there once with the _Araminta_.” “Who is _Araminta_?” “The _Araminta_. A tramp steamer I’ve made one or two trips on.” “What fun! Tell me all about your trips on the _Araminta_.” “There’s nothing to tell.” “Was that where you met the man you call Hash?” “Yes. He was the cook. Weren’t you surprised,” said Sam, beginning to see his way, “when you heard that he was engaged to Claire?” “Yes,” said Kay, regretting that she had shown interest in tramp steamers. “It just shows----” “I suppose the drawback to going about on small boats like that is the food. It’s difficult to get fresh vegetables, I should think--and eggs.” “Life isn’t all eggs,” said Sam desperately. The head waiter, a paternal man, halted at the table and inquired if everything was to the satisfaction of the lady and gentleman. The lady replied brightly that everything was perfect. The gentleman grunted. “They’re very nice here,” said Kay. “They make you feel as if they were fond of you.”