Then my annoyance gave way to amazement and curiosity. Why on earth should a man do this thing? On the fourteenth evening I could stand it no longer, and so soon as he appeared I opened the French window, crossed the verandah, and directed myself to the point where he invariably stopped.

He had his watch out as I came up to him. He had a chubby, rubicund face with reddish brown eyes⁠—previously I had seen him only against the light. “One moment, sir,” said I as he turned.

He stared. “One moment,” he said, “certainly. Or if you wish to speak to me for longer, and it is not asking too much⁠—your moment is up⁠—would it trouble you to accompany me?”

“Not in the least,” said I, placing myself beside him.

“My habits are regular. My time for intercourse⁠—limited.”

“This, I presume, is your time for exercise?”