'I've done the only thing: I've announced my engagement.

'That'll please Flossie.

'Oh, yes, she's as pleased as hell about it, damn her nasty little eyes.

'What did the old man say?

'Baffled him a bit, old boy. He's just thinking things out at the moment. Well, I expect everything'll be all right.

'I don't see why it shouldn't be.

'Well, there is a reason. I don't think I told you before, but fact is, I'm married already.

That evening Paul received a summons from the Doctor. He wore a double‑breasted dinner-jacket, which he smoothed uneasily over his hips at Paul's approach. He looked worried and old.

'Pennyfeather, he said, 'I have this morning received a severe shock, two shocks in fact. The first was disagreeable, but not wholly unexpected. Your colleague, Captain Grimes, has been convicted before me, on evidence that leaves no possibility of his innocence, of a crime ‑ I might almost call it a course of action ‑ which I can neither understand nor excuse. I daresay I need not particularize. However, that is all a minor question. I have quite frequently met with similar cases during a long experience in our profession. But what has disturbed and grieved me more than I can moderately express is the information that he is engaged to be married to my elder daughter. That, Pennyfeather, I had not expected. In the circumstances it seemed a humiliation I might reasonably have been spared. I tell you all this, Pennyfeather, because in our brief acquaintance I have learned to trust and respect you.

The Doctor sighed, drew from his pocket a handkerchief of crêpe de chine, blew his nose with every accent of emotion, and resumed:

'He is not the son‑in‑law I should readily have chosen. I could have forgiven him his wooden leg, his slavish poverty, his moral turpitude, and his abominable features; I could even have forgiven him his incredible vocabulary, if only he had been a gentleman. I hope you do not think me a snob. You may have discerned in me a certain prejudice against the lower orders. It is quite true. I do feel deeply on the subject. You see, I married one of them. But that, unfortunately, is neither here nor there. What I really wished to say to you was this: I have spoken to the unhappy young woman my daughter, and find that she has no particular inclination towards Grimes. Indeed, I do not think that any daughter of mine could fall as low as that. But she is, for some reason, uncontrollably eager to be married to somebody fairly soon. Now, I should be quite prepared to offer a partnership in Llanabba to a son‑in‑law of whom I approved. The income of the school is normally not less than three thousand a year ‑ that is with the help of dear Diana's housekeeping ‑ and my junior partner would start at an income of a thousand, and of course succeed to a larger share upon my death. It is a prospect that many young men would find inviting. And I was wondering, Pennyfeather, whether by any chance, looking at the matter from a business‑like point of view, without prejudice, you understand, fair and square, taking things as they are for what they are worth, facing facts, whether possibly you… I wonder if I make myself plain?

'No, said Paul. 'No, sir, I'm afraid it would be impossible. I hope I don't appear rude, but ‑ no, really I'm afraid…

'That's all right, my dear boy. Not another word! I quite understand. I was afraid that would be your answer. Well, it must be Grimes, then. I don't think it would be any use approaching Mr Prendergast.

'It was very kind of you to suggest it, sir.

'Not at all, not at all. The wedding shall take place a week to‑day. You might tell Grimes that if you see him. I don't want to have more to do with him than I can help. I wonder whether it would be a good thing to give a small party? For a moment a light sprang up in Dr Fagan's eyes and then died out. 'No, no, there will be no party. The sports were not encouraging. Poor little Lord Tangent is still laid up, I hear.

Paul returned to the Common Room with the Doctor's message.

'Hell! said Grimes. 'I still hoped it might fall through.

'What d'you want for a wedding present? Paul asked.

Grimes brightened. 'What about that binge you promised me and Prendy?

'All right! said Paul. 'We'll have it tomorrow.

The Hotel Metropole, Cympryddyg, is by far the grandest hotel in the north of Wales. It is situated on a high and healthy eminence overlooking the strip of water that railway companies have gallantly compared to the Bay of Naples. It was built in the ample days preceding the war, with a lavish expenditure on looking‑glass and marble. To‑day it shows signs of wear, for it has never been quite as popular as its pioneers hoped. There are cracks in the cement on the main terrace, the winter garden is draughty, and one comes disconcertingly upon derelict bathchairs in the Moorish Court. Besides this, none of the fountains ever play, the string band that used to perform nightly in the ballroom has given place to a very expensive wireless set which one of the waiters knows how to operate, there is never any notepaper in the writing‑room, and the sheets are not long enough for the beds. Philbrick pointed out these defects to Paul as he sat with Grimes and Mr Prendergast drinking cocktails in the Palm Court before dinner.

'And it isn't as though it was really cheap, he said. Philbrick had become quite genial during the last few days. 'Still, one can't expect much in Wales, and it is something. I can't live without some kind of luxury for long. I'm not staying this evening, or I'd ask you fellows to dine with me.

'Philbrick, old boy, said Grimes, 'me and my pals here have been wanting a word with you for some time. How about those yarns you spun about your being a ship-owner and a novelist and a burglar?

'Since you mention it, said Philbrick with dignity, 'they were untrue. One day you shall know my full story. It is stranger than any fiction. Meanwhile I have to be back at the Castle. Good night.

'He certainly seems quite a swell here, said Grimes as they watched him disappear into the night escorted with every obsequy by the manager and the head‑waiter. 'I daresay he could tell a story if he wanted to.

'I believe it's their keys, said Mr Prendergast suddenly. It was the first time that he had spoken. For twenty minutes he had been sitting very upright in his gilt chair and very alert, his eyes unusually bright, darting this way and that in his eagerness to miss nothing of the gay scene about him.

'What's their keys, Prendy?

'Why, the things they get given at the counter. I thought for a long time it was money.

'Is that what's been worrying you? Bless your heart, I thought it was the young lady in the office you were after.

'Oh, Grimes! said Mr Prendergast, and he blushed warmly and gave a little giggle.

Paul led his guests into the dining‑room.

'I haven't taught French for nothing all these years, said Grimes, studying the menu. 'I'll start with some jolly old huîtres.

Mr Prendergast ate a grape‑fruit with some difficulty. 'What a big orange! he said when he had finished it. 'They do things on a large scale here.

The soup came in little aluminium bowls. 'What price the ancestral silver? said Grimes. The Manchester merchants on the spree who sat all round them began to look a little askance at Paul's table.

'Someone's doing himself well on bubbly, said Grimes as a waiter advanced staggering under the weight of an ice‑pail from which emerged a Jeroboam of champagne. 'Good egg! It's coming to us.

'With Sir Solomon Philbrick's compliments to Captain Grimes and congratulations on his approaching marriage, sir.

Grimes took the waiter by the sleeve. 'See here, old boy, this Sir Solomon Philbrick ‑ know him well?