them off that porch till I've mended the railing in the morning."
Ben was grumbling over the wreckage. "George, what's the secret of this thing? Lend a hand."
"I'm frightfully sorry," said George. "I ought to have warned you. Here, I can fix it, there's a bit of clothes line"
"For Heaven's sake, don't start tinkering now," said Ruth, who had dived into the other bed. "I'm all right here, and Ben can sleep on the mattress."
Her door was open, she stood anxiously waiting as he came downstairs at last. She had put on her wrapper, he noticed with a twinge.
"Ruth's bed had a blow-out," he said. "At least I thought she was safe when she's between the sheets." He felt that he ought to want to laugh, but he had no desire to. I suppose it's because I've got no sense of humour. "Mr. Martin seems the only one who knows that night is meant to forget things in. Well, let him sleep. He'll be on his way early in the morning."
She did not answer at once, searching for the words that would help him most.
"I must go too. George, you must let me. I'd only spoil your Picnic."
