“It’s the goods.”

“I think it will work,” said Freddie.

And, disentangling the child from the honey, he led him out.

“I expect Elizabeth will be on the beach somewhere,” he said.

What you might call a quiet happiness suffused me, if that’s the word I want. I was very fond of old Freddie, and it was jolly to think that he was shortly about to click once more. I was leaning back in a chair on the veranda, smoking a peaceful cigarette, when down the road I saw the old boy returning, and, by George, the kid was still with him.

“Hallo!” I said. “Couldn’t you find her?”

I then perceived that Freddie was looking as if he had been kicked in the stomach.