Sandy squatted cross-legged on the hearthrug and lit a foul old briar pipe, which he extricated from some pouch among his skins.

And so began that conversation which had never been out of my thoughts for four hectic weeks.
'If I presume to begin,' said Blenkiron, 'it's because I reckon my story is the shortest.

I have to confess to you, gentlemen, that I have failed.' He drew down the corners of his mouth till he looked a cross between a music-hall comedian and a sick child.
'If you were looking for something in the root of the hedge, you wouldn't want to scour the road in a high-speed automobile.

And still less would you want to get a bird's-eye view in an aeroplane.

That parable about fits my case.