GERVASE.  Yes, but I ’adn’t.  I said to myself, “Surely my old friend, Ernest, whom I used to shoot bison with in the Himalayas, has got an estate somewhere in these parts.  I will go and share his simple meal with him.”  So I got out of the car, and I did what you didn’t do, young man, I had a bathe in the river, and then a dry on a pocket-handkerchief—­one of my sister’s, unfortunately—­and then I came out to look for breakfast.  And suddenly, whom should I meet but my old friend, Ernest, the same hearty fellow, the same inveterate talker as when we shot dragon-flies together in the swamps of Malay.  (Shaking his hand) Ernest, old boy, pleased to meet you.  What about it?

ERN.  ’Ad my—­

GERVASE.  S’sh. (He gets up) Now then—­to business.  Do you mind looking the other way while I try to find my purse. (Feeling for it.) Every morning when you get up, you should say, “Thank God, I’m getting a big boy now and I’ve got pockets in my trousers.”  And you should feel very sorry for the poor people who lived in fairy books and had no trousers to put pockets in.  Ah, here we are.  Now then, Ernest, attend very carefully.  Where do you live?

ERN.  ’Ome.

GERVASE.  You mean, you haven’t got a flat of your own yet?  Well, how far away is your home? (ERN grins and says nothing) A mile? (ERN continues to grin) Half a mile? (ERN grins) Six inches?

ERN (pointing).  Down there.

GERVASE.  Good.  Now then, I want you to take this—­ (giving him half-a-crown)—­

ERN.  Oo!

GERVASE.  Yes, I thought that would move you—­and I want you to ask your mother if you can bring me some breakfast up here.  Now, listen very carefully, because we are coming to the important part.  Hard-boiled eggs, bread, butter, and a bottle of milk—­and anything else she likes.  Tell her that it’s most important, because your old friend Mallory whom you shot white mice with in Egypt is starving by the roadside.  And if you come back here with a basket quickly, I’ll give you as many bull’s-eyes as you can eat in a week. (Very earnestly) Now, Ernest, with all the passion and emotion of which I am capable before breakfast, I ask you:  have you got that?

ERN (nodding).  Going ’ome. (He looks at the half-crown again.)

GERVASE.  Going ’ome.  Yes.  But—­returning with breakfast.  Starving man—­lost in forest—­return with basket—­save life. (To himself) I believe I could explain it better to a Chinaman. (to ERN) Now then, off you go.

ERN (as he goes off).  ’Ad my breakfast.

GERVASE.  Yes, and I wonder if I shall get mine.

(GERVASE walks slowly after him and stands looking at him as he goes down the hill.  Then, turning round, he sees another stranger in the distance.)

GERVASE.  Hullo, here’s another of them. (He walks towards the log) Horribly crowded the country’s getting nowadays. (He puts on his coat.)

(A moment later a travelling Peddler, name of SUSAN, comes in singing.  He sees GERVASE sitting on the log.)