A car coming from Godbury tooted violently, then slowed down, stopped, and from it jumped Leonard Boyce.

As he was to rescue me from a position of peculiar helplessness, I regarded his great khaki-clad figure as that of a ministering angel.
I beamed on him.
"Hallo! What's the matter ?" he asked cheerily.
I explained.

Being merciful, I spared Marigold and threw the blame on the dog and on the County Council for allowing the roads to get into such a filthy condition.
"That's all right," said Boyce.

"We'll soon fix you up.

First we'll get you into my car.