She had turned to go; but there was something in the quiet finality of his tone which caused her to turn to him again. "Why?" "I think you're the first because you speak of paying for what, you ought to know, I'm only too glad to give; as if I were the sort of person to accept money from a lady who has been my guest!" "I beg your pardon; I--I'm so stupid." "I said you were. I think that you're the second because, no sooner are you through your own meal than you rush off, before your host has finished." "I thought you had; I did not mean to be ill-mannered; I thought you wanted me to go." "You are mistaken. It is another rule of mine--and this is a rule which I don't propose to break--when I am done with the actual eating and drinking, to smoke a pipe; I regard that pipe as an integral part of my breakfast. I don't know why you should wish to deprive me of it." "I don't; I didn't know you wanted another; I saw you smoking one just now, before we began." "That was because breakfast was unwontedly delayed; also that is no reason why now I shouldn't have another. When I am enjoying my breakfast pipe I like, when opportunity offers, to have a chat. You spoke of payment. I suggest that your payment takes the form of sitting down and talking to me till I have smoked my pipe right out. Have you any particular objection?" "I don't mind staying, if you want me to, till you--you've done your pipe." "Thank you; then will you have the goodness to resume your seat while I load up? One can't talk to a person who will persist in standing." She sank down again upon the turf. As he crammed the tobacco into the bowl of his briar she regarded the tablecloth with doubtful eyes. "Can I--can I clear away the things, and wash up for you?" "No, you can't; all you can do is sit still, and talk. Let me begin by introducing myself; my name is Frazer--Eric Frazer. You were so kind as to tell me last night that yours was Dorothy. As it is unusual for a man to address a woman by her Christian name after such a short acquaintance as ours hath been, may I ask you to tell me what your surname is, so that we can start fair?" She hesitated; then told him a falsehood; she herself could not have said why. "My name is Greenwood." Somehow, the instant she had spoken, she felt he doubted. He looked at her, over the lighted match which he was holding to the bowl of his pipe; and, though she did not try to meet his glance, she knew that in it there was something sceptical.