‘Major Byles protested against this problem on the ground that it gave an unfair advantage to the young and unattached. The Rev. Septimus Cunliffe seconded the protest on the ground that, broad-minded though he was, after all there was a limit. A vote being taken, it was found—to the eternal shame of the club, if I may say so—that there was a considerable majority in favour of the problem being retained.’ Every member being well aware that the chairman himself had voted with the majority, there was some hilarious interruption. ‘Gentlemen,’ said the chairman severely, ‘this is not the spirit in which to approach stories of wrecked homes and blasted reputations, and these stories we must now hear. I observe that Mr Quillian has had his face scratched recently, doubtless the work of outraged modesty, but before I——’ ‘I really must protest,’ said Mr Quillian. ‘The slight marks on my left cheek are not scratches, but were caused—as they say at the inquests—by some blunt instrument, to wit, a safety razor.’ ‘Well,’ the chairman continued, ‘you will have an opportunity later to explain how the girl got hold of the razor. I will begin with some of our younger Lotharios. What have you to tell us, Mr Feldane?’ The Hon. James Feldane put down his cigarette, and spoke wearily: ‘It’s like this, you know. I claim to have won unless my score’s beaten. Ten in an hour is an impossible demand on the part of our friend Leonard, and I doubt if bogey would be more than four. May I take it that I win, if I am nearest to Leonard’s figure?’ ‘That is so. Continue your loathsome confessions.’ ‘It’s strictly masonic and all that, ain’t it?’ ‘Mr Feldane may be assured that his hideous secret will die with us,’ said the chairman. ‘The club rule of secrecy has never yet been broken.’ ‘That being so, I’ll get on. I’d planned it all for a dance I was going to, and I’d put in a deal of conscientious preliminary work, getting certain girls up to a certain mark, if you understand what I mean. On the appointed night a perfectly dear old thing with two daughters some years older than myself called to take me on to that dance. They’ve known me all my life. They knew me when I’d got golden curls and played with a wool rabbit. They’re no sort of relation, and so they count for the purpose of this competition. Well, I’ve always kissed them when we met, and I kissed them that time as soon as I boarded the car. So when we got to the house where the dance was I was three up and still had fifty-three minutes to go.’ Here Feldane was interrupted by an appeal to the chairman. It was made by his friend Hesseltine, a tall and dark young man, as good-looking as Feldane himself, though of a very different type. ‘Mr Chairman,’ said Hesseltine, ‘before Jimmy goes any further I should like to ask for your ruling. The mother of those two girls is to my certain knowledge sixty-two years of age. I claim that Jimmy cannot score her, as she is above the age of courtship.’