"Let's talk of other things," said Chatteris. "It's what even the street boys call _mawbid_ nowadays to doubt for a moment the absolute final all-this-and-nothing-else-in-the-worldishness of whatever you happen to be doing." My cousin Melville, however, could think of no other sufficiently interesting topic. "You left them all right at Sandgate?" he asked, after a pause. "Except little Bunting." "Seedy?" "Been fishing." "Of course. Breezes and the spring tides.... And Miss Waters?" Chatteris shot a suspicious glance at him. He affected the offhand style. "_She's_ quite well," he said. "Looks just as charming as ever." "She really means that canvassing?" "She's spoken of it again." "She'll do a lot for you," said Melville, and left a fine wide pause. Chatteris assumed the tone of a man who gossips. "Who is this Miss Waters?" he asked. "A very charming person," said Melville and said no more. Chatteris waited and his pretence of airy gossip vanished. He became very much in earnest. "Look here," he said. "Who is this Miss Waters?" "How should _I_ know?" prevaricated Melville. "Well, you do know. And the others know. Who is she?" Melville met his eyes. "Won't they tell you?" he asked. "That's just it," said Chatteris. "Why do you want to know?" "Why shouldn't I know?" "There's a sort of promise to keep it dark." "Keep _what_ dark?" My cousin gestured. "It can't be anything wrong?" My cousin made no sign. "She may have had experiences?" My cousin reflected a moment on the possibilities of the deep-sea life. "She has had them," he said. "I don't care, if she has." There came a pause. "Look here, Melville," said Chatteris, "I want to know this. Unless it's a thing to be specially kept from me.... I don't like being among a lot of people who treat me as an outsider. What is this something about Miss Waters?" "What does Miss Glendower say?" "Vague things. She doesn't like her and she won't say why. And Mrs. Bunting goes about with discretion written all over her. And she herself looks at you-- And that maid of hers looks-- The thing's worrying me." "Why don't you ask the lady herself?" "How can I, till I know what it is? Confound it! I'm asking _you_ plainly enough." "Well," said Melville, and at the moment he had really decided to tell Chatteris. But he hung upon the manner of presentation. He thought in the moment to say, "The truth is, she is a mermaid." Then as instantly he perceived how incredible this would be. He always suspected Chatteris of a capacity for being continental and romantic. The man might fly out at him for saying such a thing of a lady.