“I call him Lollipop for convenience. The pronouncing of his own name tends to harden the arteries.”

“It nearly wrecked the telephone this morning,” remarked Bundle. “So that’s the Baron, is it? I foresee he’ll be turned on to me this afternoon⁠—and I’ve had Isaacstein all the morning. Let George do his own dirty work, say I, and to hell with politics. Excuse me leaving you, Mr. Cade, but I must stand by poor old Father.”

Bundle retreated rapidly to the house.

Anthony stood looking after her for a minute or two and thoughtfully lighted a cigarette. As he did so, his ear was caught by a stealthy sound quite near him. He was standing by the boathouse, and the sound seemed to come from just round the corner. The mental picture conveyed to him was that of a man vainly trying to stifle a sudden sneeze.