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"Well," resumed Madrigal, "I met him and he explained--"
"About dinner?"
"About dinner. So we didn't either of us dress. In fact we didn't dine either; we were--er..."
"So anxious about you and Berry," I suggested.
My brother-in-law put his head round the door and looked at me.
"I remember," he said slowly, "I remember catching a fleeting glance--a very fleeting glance--of the anxious look upon your face as you cleared the second celery bed. At the time I thought--but never mind. I now realize that the solicitude there portrayed was on our account. Woman, I fear we judged your brother too hastily."
"I was going for a.s.sistance," I said.
"And lost your way," said Berry. He turned to his wife: "M'dear, I'm afraid he will always remain a worm. What a thought."
"Make it toads," said I. "It's safer."
CHAPTER IX
A POINT OF HONOUR
"The point is--" I began.
The girl looked up quickly.
"What?"
"This," said I. "Would you be alarmed or offended if I put my services--"
"Such as they are."
"Such as they are, thank you, at your disposal?"
"Is that an offer or a question?"
"Neither," said I. "It's a point."
She knitted her brows.
"What does one do with points?"
"One deals with them."
"M'm. Well, you can see what you can do, if you like. You mustn't be rough with the bag. It's sensitive, for all that it's made of pigskin."
"May I have the alleged key? Thank you. It is not by force, but by persuasion, that I--ahem--gain my points."
"I should think you're an only child."
"I am," I said. "That's why."
We were in a first-cla.s.s compartment on the London South Western Railway, rus.h.i.+ng away from London, down to Dorsets.h.i.+re, with its heights and woodland and its grey stone walls. There had been some trouble at Waterloo, and it was only at the last moment that an 'engaged' label had been torn off our carriage window and we had been permitted to enter. The other occupant of the carriage--an aged member of the House of Lords--after regarding us with disapproval for ninety miles, had left the train at the last station. Then my lady had turned to her nice new dressing--bag and had sought to open it. In vain she had inserted a key. In vain she had attempted to insert other keys, obviously too large. Therein she had shown her feminism. I love to see a woman do a womanly thing. Finally she had sighed and pushed her dark hair back from her temples with a gesture of annoyance. The time seeming ripe, I had spoken.
Now I turned to the obstructive wards. All she had done was to double--lock it, and I had it open in a moment.
"Thank you so much."
"Not at all. I was brought up as a burglar. What a blessed thing the old earl's left us."
"I suppose it is."
"Thank you so much."
"Not at all."
"You see if I had offered my services--such as they are--in his presence, he would probably have challenged me, and stuck your glove in his hat."
She laughed.
"He looked rather like it, didn't he?"
"And, of course, according to his lights, you should still be endeavouring to pull the alarm cord."
"Instead of which--"
"You are going to put your feet up and smoke one of my cigarettes.
It's not a smoking carriage so you'll be able to taste the tobacco."
"Is this another point?" she said, smiling.
"No," said I. "It's a certainty."
Her dark hair was smooth and s.h.i.+ning and full of lights and set off her fresh complexion to perfection. This was not at all brown, but her eyes were. Great, big ones these, with a star in each of them for laughter. Her nose turned up ever so slightly, and she had a little way of tilting her dainty chin, as if to keep it company. Red lips.
Presently she looked at me through the smoke.
"Are you going to Whinnerley?" she said.
"Yes, please."
"To the Hall?"
"Even as you are."
"How did you know?"
"The sensitive bag had a label."