obdurate words which refused to come with sufficient fluency, exclaimed:
“The—the—the meaning of this? Ah! It’s you. Superintendent, what’s happened? I say—what has—happened?”
Bill Eversleigh said: “My God! Old Jimmy!” and stared at the limp figure on the ground.
Lady Coote, clad in a resplendent purple dressing gown, cried out: “The poor boy!” and swept past Superintendent Battle to bend over the prostrate Jimmy in a motherly fashion.
Bundle said: “Loraine!”
Herr Eberhard said: “ Gott im Himmel! ” and other words of that nature.
Sir Stanley Digby said: “My God, what’s all this?”
A housemaid said: “Look at the blood,” and screamed with pleasureable excitement.
A footman said: “Lor!”
The butler said, with a good deal more bravery in his manner than had been noticeable a few minutes earlier: “Now then, this won’t do!” and waved away under-servants.
The efficient Mr. Rupert Bateman said to George: “Shall we get rid of some of these people, sir?”
Then they all took fresh breath.
“Incredible!” said George Lomax. “Battle, what has happened ?”