resting my parent's absent-minded hand. "Yes, you were saying?"
"They passed to Europe on"
Here he broke down with a bad fit of choking, the result of an immoderate mouthful of kipper-bones.
"But we must start at once," he declared, as he rose to his feet at the conclusion of the meal. "There is no time to be lost. We must be on the spot—there are doubtless incalculable finds to be found in the neighbourhood. I shall be interested to note whether the implements are typical of the Mousterian period—there will be the remains of the primitive ox, I should say, but not those of the woolly rhinoceros. Yes, a little army will be starting soon. We must get ahead of them. You will write to Cook's to-day, Anne?"
"What about money, papa?" I hinted delicately.
He turned a reproachful eye upon me.
"Your point of view always depresses me, my child. We must not be sordid. No, no, in the cause of science one must not be sordid."
"I feel Cook's might be sordid, papa."
Papa looked pained.
"My dear Anne, you will pay them in ready money."
"I haven't got any ready money."
Papa looked thoroughly exasperated.
"My child, I really cannot be bothered with these vulgar money details. The bank—I had something from the Manager yesterday, saying I had twenty-seven pounds."
"That's your overdraft, I fancy."
"Ah, I have it! Write to my publishers."
I acquiesced doubtfully, Papa's books bringing in more glory than money. I liked the idea of going to Rhodesia immensely. "Stern silent men," I murmured to myself
