“I say, will you come and see those etchings now? They’re waiting for you.”
Bundle left the room hurriedly, Jimmy close behind her.
“What etchings?” she asked, as the drawing-room door closed behind her.
“No etchings,” said Jimmy. “I’d got to say something to get hold of you. Come on. Bill is waiting for us in the library. There’s nobody there.”
Bill was striding up and down the library, clearly in a very perturbed state of mind.
“Look here,” he burst out, “I don’t like this.”
“Don’t like what?”
“You being mixed up in this. Ten to one there’s going to be a rough house and then—”
He looked at her with a kind of pathetic dismay that gave Bundle a warm and comfortable feeling.
“She ought to be kept out of it, oughtn’t she, Jimmy?”
He appealed to the other.
“I’ve told her so,” said Jimmy.
“Dash it all, Bundle, I mean—someone might get hurt.”
Bundle turned round to Jimmy.
“How much have you told him?”
“Oh! everything.”