"It all began," I said, "a year ago, when Sir Arthur became a member of the South African Chartered Incorporated Co-operative Stores Society Limited, Ten per cents at Par (Men only). He wasn't exactly a real member, having been elected under Rule Two for meritorious performances, Rule One being that this club shall be called what I said just now; but for nearly a year he enjoyed all the privileges of membership, including those of paying a large entrance fee and a still larger subscription. At the end of a year, however, a dreadful thing happened. They made a Third Rule--to wit, that no member should go to sleep on the billiard-table. "Of course, Sir Arthur, having only got in under Rule Two, had to resign. He had already paid his large entrance fee, and (as it happened) his second year's subscription in advance. Naturally, he was annoyed.... "And that, in fact, is why he stands on the chimney-piece with his javelin drawn back. He is waiting for the secretary. Sir Arthur is considered to be a good shot, and the secretary wants all the flowers to be white." At this point, Margery said her best word, "Gorky," which means "A thousand thanks for the verisimilitude of your charming and interesting story, but is not the love element a trifle weak?" (Margery is a true woman.) "We must leave _something_ to the imagination," I pleaded. "The secretary no doubt had a delightful niece, and Sir Arthur's hopeless passion for her, after he had hit her uncle in a vital spot, would be the basis of a most powerful situation." Margery said "Gorky," again, which, as I have explained, means, "Are such distressing situations within the province of the Highest Art?" When Margery says "Gorky" twice in one night it is useless to argue. I gave in at once. "Butter," I said, "placed upon the haft of the javelin would make it slip, and put him off his shot. He would miss the secretary and marry the niece." So we put a good deal of butter on Sir Arthur, and for the moment the secretary is safe. I don't know if we shall be able to keep it there; but in case jam does as well, Margery has promised to stroke him every day. However, I anticipate. As soon as the secretarial life was saved, Margery said "Agga," which is, as it were, "_Encore!_" or "_Bis!_" so that I have her permission to tell you that story all over again. Indeed, I should feel quite justified in doing so. Instead I will give you the tragedy of George, the other fellow (no knight he), as she told it to me afterwards.