“He’s stupid,” she said.  “Why can’t you find the monkeys?  You know you promised.”

I suggested luncheon, but was overruled, and, on turning a corner, read my fate in large letters on the opposite building.

“Come on,” said Nancy, taking me by the hand.

Her first selection was very old and melancholy.  He accepted a piece of locust-bean with leisurely condescension and watched us with quiet interest as he chewed.  He rather frightened me; the wisdom of all the ages was behind his wrinkled eyes.

“When you were in your prison did the Germans feed you through the bars?” Nancy asked with great clearness.

Several people in the vicinity became aware of our existence and, feeling the limelight upon me, I again mentioned the lateness of the hour.

“Talk to him,” she said.  “Ask him what it’s like in there.”

I treated the blinking monkey to a collection of clicks and chuckles which would have startled even a professor of the Bantu languages.  He finished his bean and emitted a low bird-like call.

“What’s that?” asked Nancy.

“You see,” I said, “he’s brown and comes from a different part of the country.  It’s like Englishmen and Frenchmen.  Now, if he was blue—­”

“Ask that keeper,” said Nancy.

“He’s very busy,” I whispered.  “We oughtn’t to interrupt him.”

Nancy at once ran over to the man.

“Have you got any blue ones?” she asked. “’Cos he can talk to them.  We’d like to see one.”

The man looked at me without interest.  I was an amateur and a rival; but Nancy’s smile can work wonders.

“Yes, Missy,” he said, “a beauty round here.”

We reached the cage all too soon.

“Now talk,” Nancy ordered.

Again I went through my ridiculous performance.  The monkey looked at the keeper.

The hand which lay in mine told me that Nancy’s confidence was waning.  I knew then how much I valued it.

“Not very well, is he?” I asked of the keeper.  “A little out of sorts—­this weather, you know.”

My reputation was in his hands, but I dared make no sign.  Nancy’s eyes were on my face.

The man looked at me and then at the eager little face below him.  “Heavy cold, Sir,” he said stolidly.  “Always makes ’em a bit hard o’ hearing.  Poor old Topsy!  Want to be left alone, do you?”

“What a pity,” said Nancy.  “Mother will be sorry to hear that the only one you could speak to was so ill and deaf.”

“What were you giving him?” she asked as we walked away.

“Only a little New Year present for his children,” I said.

“How do you know he’s got any children?” Nancy demanded.  “He didn’t say so, did he?”

“No, but I’m quite certain he has,” I answered.

* * * * *

Letter received by an officer in Egypt:—­