Brisbane came off best, though I came off quickest, for my horse put his foot in a hole and went down on his knees, while I went over his head like the White Knight in "Alice." I would think nothing of sliding off a roof now.

But I made up for this mishap by coming back in my grey suit and having it compared with the picture in The Century.

It is a very close fight, and, while Brisbane is chasing over town for photographs of Sullivan, I am buying books of verses of which she seems to be fond.

As soon as she gets her divorce one of us is going to marry her.

We don't know which.