'_I_! I did not start, Clodagh! What made you think that I started? I
did not start! Who told you, Clodagh, that Peters takes atropine?'
'He is my nephew: I should know. But don't look dumbfoundered in that
absurd fashion: I have no intention of poisoning him in order to see you
a multimillionaire, and a Peer of the Realm....'
'My dearest Clodagh!'
'I easily might, however. He will be here presently. He is bringing Mr.
Wilson for the evening.' (Wilson was going as electrician of the
expedition.)
'Clodagh.' I said, 'believe me, you jest in a manner which does not
please me.'
'Do I really?' she answered with that haughty, stiff half-turn of her
throat: 'then I must be more exquisite. But, thank Heaven, it is only a
jest. Women are no longer admired for doing such things.'
'Ha! ha! ha!--no--no logger admired, Clodagh! Oh, my good Lord! let us
change this talk....'
But now she could talk of nothing else. She got from me that afternoon
the history of all the Polar expeditions of late years, how far they
reached, by what aids, and why they failed.
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