“I see. Mrs. Thompson couldn't quite make out your explanation. I'll make it clear to her.” And Mr. Deane, smiling cheerfully, took a bus to the club, which presented the usual picture of an August desert. He announced that he was waiting for the Major, and ordered tea on the balcony. Towards the close of his leisurely meal two figures clattered up the steps. A steward approached the shorter and indicated the visitor. The man came forward. “I'm Major Thompson. You wish to see me? Shall I have tea at your table, or will it wait till afterwards? Tea I must have.” Mr. Deane strongly supported the idea of tea at his table. He produced his card and spoke of his client's accident. “I've just come from Mrs. Thompson; she requested me to see you.” There was no doubt as to Major Thompson's embarrassed bewilderment. “Oh—ah—I see. But didn't my wife explain—” he gazed wildly around for his tea. “No, Major Thompson, she did not. The onus of proof rests on you.” And Mr. Deane fixed his pince-nez more firmly on his nose, and eyed the man across the table. “Well, but—by jove—my wife told me—I mean Miss Leslie”—the major saw salvation and snatched at it—“you should see Miss Leslie. Miss Leslie is the person——” “Not at all.” Mr. Deane stiffened. “My client was only able to identify the young lady, it is true, but she only comes into the case as identifying or not your car.” “I see. Well, then, it's all quite simple. I never was anywhere near Richmond Park at the hour you mention.” “Nor your car?” “Go and have a look at the old bus. There isn't any paint on her to scratch, but the mud of centuries ought to do as well. If you can find any dent on her—ah, here's my tea. I see you had shrimp sandwiches, too. Shows this isn't your first visit here, eh?” But Mr. Deane was not to be diverted. “My client,” he began with his dry, preparatory little cough, “fixes the hour at about four-thirty, or a little later. If you will kindly state—with, of course, some—ah—proofs—that neither you, Miss Leslie, nor the car were near Richmond Park at the hour of the collision, the matter would drop, as far as you are concerned. It must be, of course, a simple matter for you to establish your whereabouts at the time in question.” The major drank long and deep. Then he placed his empty cup in its saucer with something of a bang.