We were then treated to a brief _resume_ of the events leading up to a religious controversy of colossal dimensions which was at that moment threatening to engulf Scotland. Robin was deeply interested in the matter, and gave us his reasons for being so. He passed some scathing comments on the contumacy and narrow-mindedness of the sect who had the misfortune to be his opponents; and after that he proceeded to say a few words about Free Will and Predestination. By this time lunch was over, but we sat on. I nodded gravely over my coffee, saying "Quite so" when occasion seemed to demand it. Kitty was completely out of her depth, but still maintained a brave appearance of interest. It was the Twins who brought the _seance_ to a close. Placing their hands before their mouths, they with difficulty stifled a pair of cavernous yawns. Next moment they were sorry. Robin stopped dead, flushed up, and said-- "Mrs Inglethwaite, I am sorry. I have been most inconsiderate and rude. I have wearied you all. The truth is," he continued quite simply, "it is so long since I sat at meat with friends, that I have lost the art of conversation. I just run on, like--like a leading article. I have not conversed with a woman, except once or twice across a counter, for nearly three years." There was a rather tense pause. Then Dolly said-- "We're awfully sorry, Mr Fordyce. It was very rude of us. We quite understand now, don't we, Dilly?" "Rather," said Dilly. "It was horrible of us, Mr Fordyce. But we thought you were just an ordinary bore." "Children!" said Kitty. "But what you have told us makes things quite different, doesn't it, Dolly?" continued Dilly. "Quite--absolutely," said Dolly. And they smiled upon him, quite maternally. And so the incident passed. "How queer, not talking to a woman for three years!" continued Dolly reflectively. "How _awful_ it would be not to talk to a man for three years!" said Dilly, with obvious sincerity. "There is little opportunity for social intercourse," said Robin, "to a man who comes to London to sink or swim." The conversation was again taking a slightly sombre turn, and I struck in-- "Well, I hope, Mr Fordyce, that a few weeks' experience of my establishment won't have the effect of making you regret your previous celibate existence." Dolly and Dilly looked at each other. "Dolly," said Dilly, "is that an insult?" "I think so." "Insulting enough to be punishable?" "Rather." "All right. Come on!" They fell upon me, and the next few minutes were devoted to what I believe is known in pantomime circles as a Grand Rally, which necessitated my going upstairs afterwards and changing my collar. Robin was not present at tea, and my household took advantage of his absence to run over his points.