"We are engaged now," said Meldon, "on a serious investigation. You have demanded that a certain man should be punished in a perfectly frightful manner. I've agreed to carry out your wishes, _if_--mark my words--if he deserves it. You ought not to be thinking of carpets or ink-bottles. Your mind ought to be concentrated on a single effort to tell the truth. It's not such an easy thing to tell the truth as you think. Lots of men try to and fail. In fact, I'm not sure that any man could tell the truth unless he's had some training in metaphysics and theology. When I was in college I took honours in logic--" "You've often mentioned that to me before," said the Major. "It's one of the things about you that I have most firmly fixed in my mind." "And I won a prize for proving the accuracy of the Thirty-nine Articles. Consequently, I may say, without boasting, that I'm more or less of an expert in the matter of truth. My mind is trained. Yours, of course, isn't. That's why I'm trying to help you to tell the truth. But I won't--in fact, I can't--go on helping you if you wander off on to side issues about ink-bottles and carpets." He waved his hand oratorically as he spoke, and tipped the ink-bottle off the arm of the chair. "There," said the Major, "I knew you'd do that." "Never mind," said Meldon. "I have a pencil in my pocket. I'll work with it." The Major seized the blotting-paper from his writing-table and went down on his knees on the carpet. "When you've finished making that mess worse than it is," said Meldon, "and covering your own fingers all over with ink in such a way that it will take days of careful rubbing with pumice-stone to get them clean, perhaps you'll go on telling me why you call this fellow Simpkins a meddlesome ass. I was up early this morning, owing to the baby's being restless during the night. Did I mention to you that she's got whooping-cough? Well, she has, and it takes her in the form of a rapid succession of fits, beginning at 10 p.m. and lasting till eight the next morning. That was what happened last night, so, as you'll readily understand, I want to get to bed in good time to-night. It may, it probably will, take hours to drag your grievance out of you, and I don't see any use in wasting time at the start." "I paid twenty guineas for that carpet," said the Major. "It's a Persian one." "Has that anything to do with Simpkins? Did he force you to buy the carpet, or did he try to prevent you?" "No, he didn't. I wouldn't let the beast inside this house." "Very well then. Don't go on about the carpet. Tell me plainly and straightforwardly why you call Simpkins a meddlesome ass." "Because he pokes his nose into everybody's business," said the Major, "and won't let people alone." Meldon took a note on a sheet of paper. "Good," he said. "Simpkins--meddlesome ass--pokes his nose into everybody's business. Now, who is everybody?" "Who is what, J. J.?"