“Thank you,” said Derry softly. “I—I think we’d forgotten that,” he
added, glancing around.
“It’s—it’s a very good rule,” said Virginia gently.
“It is,” said Roger.
“It’s of pure gold,” said Rosemary. “But it doesn’t sound like the Law.
It’s more like the Book of Proverbs.”
“I’ve no doubt it dates from then,” said Derry Peruke. “Solomon probably
made it in self-defence.”
“Seven ’undred statemen’s,” said P.C. Bloke brokenly.
“He had a spade-shaped beard,” said Roger, laughing.
“But the Queen of Sheba was driving,” said Mrs. Peruke.
“The gods,” said Rosemary Chase, “were in the other car.”
Virginia shook her head.
“I never saw them,” she said. “There were a couple of goats.”
“That’s right,” cried Roger excitedly. “The god in the car was on foot.”
“Masquerading,” said his wife, “as a recording angel.”
“Which shows,” said Derry, “that the cobbler should stick to his last.
As a recorder, he’s failed. As the god in the car, he’s done what we
couldn’t have done in a thousand years.”
“Exactly,” observed Virginia. “He’s cleared the air.”
“And that,” said Rosemary Chase, “with the flat of the sword.”
P.C. Bloke, whose brain had been out of its depth ever since the Queen
of Sheba, plunged to where it could touch bottom and raised his glass.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “your very good health.”