This was adroit; it compelled the Major to begin all over again.
“I come entirely on my own account,” he began.
“I understand,” said Miss Mapp, instantly bringing Captain Puffin in again. “Captain Puffin, now I presume sober, has no regret for what he said when drunk. I quite see, and I expected no more and no less from him. Yes. I am afraid I interrupted you.”
Major Flint threw his friend overboard like ballast from a bumping balloon.
“I speak for myself,” he said. “I behaved, Miss Mapp, like a—ha—worm. Defenceless lady, insolent fellow drunk—I allude to Captain P—. I’m very sorry for my part in it.”
Up till this moment Miss Mapp had not made up her mind whether she intended to forgive him or not; but here she saw how crushing a penalty she might be able to inflict on Puffin if she forgave the erring and possibly truly repentant Major. He had already spoken strongly about his friend’s offence, and she could render life supremely nasty for them both—particularly Puffin—if she made the Major agree that he could not, if truly sorry, hold further intercourse with him. There would be no more golf, no more diaries. Besides, if she was observed to be friendly with the Major again and to cut Captain Puffin, a very natural interpretation would be that she had learned that in the original quarrel the Major had been defending her from some odious tongue to the extent of a challenge, even though he subsequently ran away. Tilling was quite clever enough to make that inference without any suggestion from her.... But if she forgave neither of them, they would probably go on boozing and golfing together, and saying quite dreadful things about
