"Madam," I said, breathlessly springing forward, as a heavenly being was coldly tearing the hook from the gills of the unlucky trout, "though I am a stranger, will you do me a great favour? It is a matter of life or death..." 

 She looked up at me with some surprise, but with a fine fearless glance, and almost immediately said, "Certainly, what can I do?" 

 "Spare the life of that trout—" 

 "It is a singular request," she replied, "and one," she smiled, "self-sacrificing indeed for an angler to grant, for he weighs at least three pounds. However, since he seems a friend of yours, here goes—" And with the gladdest, most grateful sound in the world, the happy smack of a fish back home again in the water, after an appalling three minutes spent on land, that prophetic trout was once more an active unit in God's populous universe. 

 "Now that's good of you," I said, with thankful eyes, "and shows a kind heart." 

 "And kind hearts, they say, are more than coronets," she replied merrily, indulging in that derisive quotation which seems to be the final reward of the greatest poets. 

 For a moment there was a silence, during which I confess to wondering what I should say next. However, she supplied my place. 

 "But of course," she said, "you owe it to me, after this touching display of humanitarianism, to entertain me with your reason for interposing between me and my just trout. Was it one of those wonderful talking fishes out of the Arabian Nights, or are you merely an angler yourself, and did you begrudge such a record catch to a girl?" 

 "I see," I replied, "that you will understand me. That trout was, so to speak, out of the Arabian Nights. Only five minutes ago it was a May-day madness of mine to think that he leaped out of the water and gave me a highly important message. So I begged his life from a mere fancy. It was just a whim, which I trust you will excuse." 

 "A whim! So you are a follower of the great god Whim," she replied, with somewhat of an eager interest in her voice.  "How nice it is to meet a fellow-worshipper!" 

 "Do women ever have whims?" I respectfully asked. 

 "I don't know about other women," she replied.  "Indeed, I'm afraid I'm unnatural enough to take no interest in them at all. But, as for 

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