…or a ‘Tec?”I see I must explain myself,” she said, pulling out a chair from the table and sitting down.”Though I’m living in a big house in Park Lane, Mr. Bailey, I’m a poor woman. My husband has all the money, and not I.” “That doesn’t sound quite fair, ma’am,” I muttered, not knowing exactly what other remark to make.”Fair! Of course it isn’t fair!” she snapped. “Nothing is fair, is it? But come, I’m not here to expatiate on injustice. Have you ever been hard up, Mr. Bailey? You have. Good! Then you can sympathise with me. I am hard up— so hard up that I am anxious to sell my diamonds — a wedding present from my husband — and, being a wedding present and positively the only present he has ever given me, you can understand my difficulty. In short, I want to sell it, but dare…

…with the honey! Besides, see the amount of labour it saves!” and with that he started whistling. I cannot recollect the air, but it must have been something very infectious, for much as I hate dancing I took off my coat, and holding it straight in front of me commenced to waltz. “And why not your trousers, too?” whistled the boy,” you don’t want them. You are only a monkey” I looked down, and the first thing I saw was my tail, that sat up on end and laughed at me. “Well, really, things have come to a fine point!” I exclaimed, “The lower orders making fun of the upper in this fashion! What next shall we hear!” “You can’t do two things at once,” sneered the tail, “you can’t dance and scold me. Either you must go on dancing and leave me behind or — or” and, suddenly becoming…