that purpose. Still, if one had chastised a smaller boy
for being cheeky weeks before, one was always permitted
on that day to recall the
episode to his memory by
chastising him again. That is what the French call
reconstructing the crime."
"I should call it reconstructing the punishment,"
said Mrs. Thackenbury; "and, anyhow, I don't see how you
could introduce a
system of
primitive schoolboy vengeance
into civilised adult life. We haven't outgrown our
passions, but we are
supposed to have
learned how to keep
them within
strictly decorous limits."
"Of course the thing would have to be done furtively
and politely," said Clovis; "the charm of it would be
that it would never be perfunctory like the other thing.
Now, for
instance, you say to yourself: 'I must show the
Webleys some attention at Christmas, they were kind to
dear Bertie at Bournemouth,' and you send them a
calendar, and daily for six days after Christmas the male
Webley asks the
female Webley if she has remembered to
thank you for the
calendar you sent them. Well,
transplant that idea to the other and more human side of
your nature, and say to yourself: 'Next Thursday is
Nemesis Day; what on earth can I do to those odious
people next door who made such an
absurd fuss when Ping
Yang bit their youngest child?' Then you'd get up
awfully early on the allotted day and climb over into
their garden and dig for truffles on their
tennis court
with a good gardening fork, choosing, of course, that
part of the court that was screened from
observation by
the
laurel bushes. You wouldn't find any truffles but
you would find a great peace, such as no
amount of
present-giving could ever bestow."
"I shouldn't," said Mrs. Thackenbury, though her air
of protest sounded a bit forced; "I should feel rather a
worm for doing such a thing."
"You
exaggerate the power of upheaval which a worm
would be able to bring into play in the
limited time
available," said Clovis; "if you put in a
strenuous ten
minutes with a really useful fork, the result ought to
suggest the operations of an
unusually masterful mole or
a
badger in a hurry."
"They might guess I had done it," said Mrs.
Thackenbury.
"Of course they would," said Clovis; "that would be
half the
satisfaction of the thing, just as you like
people at Christmas to know what presents or cards you've
sent them. The thing would be much easier to manage, of
course, when you were on
outwardly friendly terms with
the object of your
dislike. That
greedy little Agnes
Blaik, for
instance, who thinks of nothing but her food,
it would be quite simple to ask her to a
picnic in some
wild
woodland spot and lose her just before lunch was
served; when you found her again every
morsel of food
could have been eaten up."
"It would require no ordinary human
strategy to lose
Agnes Blaik when
luncheon was
imminent: in fact, I don't
believe it could be done."
"Then have all the other guests, people whom you
dislike, and lose the
luncheon. It could have been sent
by accident in the wrong direction."
"It would be a
ghastlypicnic," said Mrs.
Thackenbury.
"For them, but not for you," said Clovis; "you would
have had an early and comforting lunch before you
started, and you could improve the occasion by mentioning
in detail the items of the
missingbanquet - the lobster
Newburg and the egg
mayonnaise, and the curry that was to
have been heated in a chafing-dish. Agnes Blaik would be
delirious long before you got to the list of wines, and
in the long
interval of
waiting, before they had quite
abandoned hope of the lunch turning up, you could induce
them to play silly games, such as that idiotic one of
'the Lord Mayor's dinner-party,' in which every one has