’Are you feverish, darling?’ said Ross anxiously.
’No, but I get quotations mixed at times. Will you forgive me?’ I said childishly.
So we smoked the pipe of peace with great contentment, smoked the calumet, the peace pipe, and I said, ’My brother, listen,—
"See the smoke rise slowly, slowly, First a single line of darkness, Then a denser, bluer vapour, Then a snow-white cloud unfolding, Like the tree tops of the forest. Ever rising, rising, rising, Till it touched the top of heaven," Till it broke against the ceiling, Till I sneezed.’
’Well, the only thing I’ve understood that you’ve said lately was the sneeze.’
’And that,’ I observed with pride, ’was the original bit. I always felt I could be a poet if I tried. Now I’m going to finish rowing you.’
’But I thought we’d smoked the pipe of peace, Meg.’
’How like a woman. Fire away, then, and get it off your chest.’
So I fired away and got off all the wrongs of days.
’If you weren’t so small,’ said Ross, when at last he got a word in, ’I shouldn’t feel so inclined to bully you.’
’But that’s an awful thing to say. Why, you never ought to hit a man who’s smaller than yourself.’
’Looks as if my moral nature is decaying and I seem to be a fair and average all-round beast,’ said Ross, with gloom. ’I didn’t mean to hurt you, darling. Sorry, little ’un. I’ll try to be different,’ he promised, as he used when he was naughty as a boy.
’Have some coffee, Meg? Brown put some in my thermy.’
’Yes. I will if you will,’ and because my brother was ’trying to be different’ he took a cup himself.
’Well, it’s time you went to sleep,’ remarked the giant, and got up to go.
Outside the door, as he went out, I heard Brown say, ’Can’t you sleep, sir,’ and then something about ’no dressing-gown with that cold on you.’
’Oh, dry up,’ said Ross wrathfully, really trying to be different, ’you’re as bad as a wet nurse. Go to bed and stop there, or I’ll sack you, Sam.’
When I woke up next time it was getting light. I fumbled for my watch. It said the hour was twelve, so I knew it must be seven, or it might be eight—the hour hand will slip round, though I can always tell the minutes, which is what one usually wants to know.
’This,’ I thought, ’is my repentant brother. Now, after last night, I must remember to be firm, but kind, and so help him to be different,’ and I called ’Come in.’