Then I made, I'm sorry to say, a false step. I observed, interrupting,—
'But it's ticklish work now, eh? Six months' "hard" wouldn't be pleasant, would it?'
'What do you mean, Mr.—er—Carter?' she asked.
I was still blind. I believe I winked, and I'm sure I whispered, 'Tea.'
Miss Milton drew herself up very straight.
'I do not bribe,' she said. 'What I distribute is pamphlets.'
Now, I don't suppose that 'pamphlets' and 'blankets' don't really sound much alike, but I was agitated.
'Quite right,' said I. 'Poor old things! They can't afford proper fuel.'
She rose to her feet.
'I was not joking,' said she with horrible severity.
'Neither was I,' I declared in humble apology. 'Didn't you say "Blankets"?'
'Pamphlets.
'Oh!'
There was a long pause. I glanced at Mrs. Hilary. Things had not fallen out as happily as they might, but I did not mean to give up yet.
'I see you're right,' I said, still humbly. 'To descend to such means as I had in my mind is'.
'To throw away our true weapons,' said she earnestly. (She sat down again—good sign.)
'What we really need' I began.
