‘I’m almost ghoulishly discreet, if that’s any recommendation.’

‘I do so wonder what Sim’s doing. Can you hear anything?’

‘We’ve come rather far away from them to hear anything. Unless, of course, they begin to scream in each other’s faces. What would you expect to hear? Dull thuds?’

‘I don’t know. Listen!’

‘Well,’ said Dikon after a pause, ‘that was a dull thud. Do you suppose that Mr Questing has been felled to the ground for the second time in a fortnight?’

‘I’m afraid Sim’s hit him.’

‘I’m afraid so too,’ Dikon agreed. ‘Look.’

From where they sat they could see the patch of manuka scrub. Mr Questing appeared, nursing his face in his handkerchief. He came slowly along the main path and as he drew nearer they saw that his handkerchief was dappled red. ‘A dong on the nose, by gum,’ said Dikon. When he arrived at the intersection, Mr Questing paused.

‘I’m going—He’ll see me. I can’t—’ Barbara began, but she was too late. Mr Questing had already seen them. He advanced a short way down the side path and, still holding his handkerchief to his nose, addressed them from some considerable distance.

‘Look at this,’ he shouted. ‘Is it a swell set-up, or is it? I like to do things in a refined way and here’s what I get for it. What’s the matter with the crowd around here? Ask a lady to marry you and somebody hauls off and half kills you. I’m going to clean this dump right up. Pardon me, Mr Bell, for intruding personal affairs.’

‘Not at all, Mr Questing,’ said Dikon politely.

Mr Questing unguardedly removed his handkerchief and three large red blobs fell on his shirt front. ‘Blast!’ he said violently and staunched his nose again. ‘Listen, Babs,’ he continued through the handkerchief. ‘If you feel like changing your mind, I won’t say the offer’s closed, but if you want to do anything you’ll need to make it snappy. I’m going to pack them up, the whole crowd of them. I’ll give the Colonel till the end of the month and then out. And, by God, if I’d got a witness I’d charge your tough young brother with assault. By God, I would. I’m fed up. I’m in pain and I’m fed up.’ He goggled at Dikon over the handkerchief. ‘Apologizing once again, old man,’ said Mr Questing, ‘and assuring you that you’ll very shortly see a big change for the better in the management of this bloody dump. So long, for now.’

III