"Rusper's been playing a game of his own," said Hinks. "Wonder what he thought he was up to! Sittin' in the middle of the road with a pair of tweezers he was, and about a yard of wire--mending somethin'. Wonder he warn't run over by the Port Burdock engine." Presently a little chat sprang up upon the causes of fires, and Mr. Polly was moved to tell how it had happened for the one and twentieth time. His story had now become as circumstantial and exact as the evidence of a police witness. "Upset the lamp," he said. "I'd just lighted it, I was going upstairs, and my foot slipped against where one of the treads was a bit rotten, and down I went. Thing was aflare in a moment!..." He yawned at the end of the discussion, and moved doorward. "So long," said Mr. Polly. "Good night," said Mr. Rumbold. "You played a brave man's part! If you don't get a medal--" He left an eloquent pause. "'Ear, 'ear!" said Mr. Wintershed and Mr. Clamp. "Goo'night, O' Man," said Mr. Hinks. "Goo'night All," said Mr. Polly ... He went slowly upstairs. The vague perplexity common to popular heroes pervaded his mind. He entered the bedroom and turned up the electric light. It was quite a pleasant room, one of the best in the Temperance Hotel, with a nice clean flowered wallpaper, and a very large looking-glass. Miriam appeared to be asleep, and her shoulders were humped up under the clothes in a shapeless, forbidding lump that Mr. Polly had found utterly loathsome for fifteen years. He went softly over to the dressing-table and surveyed himself thoughtfully. Presently he hitched up the trousers. "Miles too big for me," he remarked. "Funny not to have a pair of breeches of one's own.... Like being born again. Naked came I into the world...." Miriam stirred and rolled over, and stared at him. "Hello!" she said. "Hello." "Come to bed?" "It's three." Pause, while Mr. Polly disrobed slowly. "I been thinking," said Miriam, "It isn't going to be so bad after all. We shall get your insurance. We can easy begin all over again." "H'm," said Mr. Polly. She turned her face away from him and reflected. "Get a better house," said Miriam, regarding the wallpaper pattern. "I've always 'ated them stairs." Mr. Polly removed a boot. "Choose a better position where there's more doing," murmured Miriam.... "Not half so bad," she whispered.... "You _wanted_ stirring up," she said, half asleep.... It dawned upon Mr. Polly for the first time that he had forgotten something. He ought to have cut his throat!