Had not the whole scene become to him by this time incredibly phantasmal, such an unexpected introduction of Gerda’s name, on this night of all nights, might have struck a villainous blow at his life-illusion. As it was, however, he could only wonder at the perspicacity of drunken fathers, and pull himself together for an adequate retort.

“My name is Solent, my good sir, as you ought to know,” he said. And then he turned to the two farmers, who were nudging each other and leering at him like a couple of schoolboy bullies. “ Mr. Torp and I are the best of friends,” he remarked sternly.

“Friend of Torp,” chuckled Mr. Manley.

“Torp’s friend,” echoed Mr. Beard.