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Mr. Hoopdriver, very uncomfortable and studying an easy bearing, looked
again at the breakfast things and then idly lifted the corner of the
tablecloth on the ends of his fingers, and regarded it. "Fifteen three,"
he thought, privately.
"
"
"
Why do you do that?" said Jessie.
WHAT?" said Hoopdriver, dropping the tablecloth convulsively.
Look at the cloth like that. I saw you do it yesterday, too."
Mr. Hoopdriver's face became quite a bright red. He began pulling his
moustache nervously. "I know," he said. "I know. It's a queer habit,
I know. But out there, you know, there's native servants, you know,
and--it's a queer thing to talk about--but one has to look at things to
see, don't y'know, whether they're quite clean or not. It's got to be a
habit."
"
"
"
How odd!" said Jessie.
Isn't it?" mumbled Hoopdriver.
If I were a Sherlock Holmes," said Jessie, "I suppose I could have told
you were a colonial from little things like that. But anyhow, I guessed
it, didn't I?"
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