92
FIFTY-ONE TALES
"Well not exactly that," he answered me.
"For a bet?" I said.
"Not precisely," said he.
And then I looked at the bit that they had already picked, and though it was broad daylight over my head it was darkness down there, all full of the southern stars.
"It was noisy and bad and we grew aweary of it," said he that wore corduroy trousers. "We are not what we appear."
They were taking up Piccadilly altogether.
