CASE V
THE HOTTENTOT VENUS
IT WAS a night in June. The Chief of the Criminal Investigation Department was pensive. "Did you ever want to marry, Fortune?" he murmured.
"Often; but never one at a time." Reggie Fortune looked curiously at his host. The dinner had been good, the claret very good, the cigars were of the most benignant. But still—"Why this touch of sentiment, Lomas?" said he.
"Some students say women have no minds," Lomas murmured drowsily. "But that's partiality. The trouble is, women aren't human beings. Consider the parallel case of the dog. He is intelligent. But he sets different values on things from our values. Inhuman values. Think of bones, cats, boots. It is so also with women."
"'I love a lassie'—but she ate my best pumps. Lomas, my good child, are you merely drivelling or shall we come to something soon?"
"I am much exposed to women," said the Chief of the Criminal Investigation Department pathetically, and roused himself. "But this is a family skeleton.
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