The Woman, the Man, and the Monster
“The muses and I have long since parted company.”
He smiled, and again his glance wandered round the room, resting curiously on the newly cut flowers and some of Andromeda’s knick- knacks.
“Looks like a woman. Have you one here? But of course you have. No man could stick to this without a woman.”
“My wife is here with me.”
“Congratulations.” But the remark was singularly devoid of enthusiasm. Then he addressed the chauffeur. “Get the wreckage away and make the best you can of it. I suppose there is civilisation somewhere near this wilderness?” He was addressing the yokel now, who stared back at him with wide, unintellectual eyes. “I suppose one can get a fly, or something of that sort?”
“Yes, sur,” said the man.
“And look you, my friend, you mustn’t think that though you live in the neighbourhood the road belongs to you. You’ve smashed my car and damned near killed me. What do you think of that?”
“It was you,” replied the man sourly, “in
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