THE MAN WHO WAS
101
you, old man, any time you like. Got everything you want? Cheroots, ice, bedding? That's all right. Well, au revoir, Dirkovitch.'
'Um,' said the other man, as the tail-lights of the train grew small. 'Of—all—the—unmitigated———!'
Little Mildred answered nothing, but watched the north star and hummed a selection from a recent Simla burlesque that had much delighted the White Hussars. It ran—
I'm sorry for Mister Bluebeard,
I'm sorry to cause him pain;
But a terrible spree there's sure to be
When he comes back again.
