Next day I looked in at the club, and found young Bingo in the smoking room.

“Hallo, Bingo,” I said, toddling over to his corner full of bonhomie, for I was glad to see the chump, “How’s the boy?”

“Jogging along.”

“I saw your uncle yesterday.”

Young Bingo unleashed a grin that split his face in half.

“I know you did, you trifler. Well, sit down, old thing, and suck a bit of blood. How’s the prowling these days?”

“Good Lord! You weren’t there!”

“Yes, I was.”

“I didn’t see you.”