“There were two revolvers,” said Lady Coote. “Nasty things. I saw them myself. It’s a wonder this poor boy wasn’t killed.”

“Oh, I was born to be hanged,” said Jimmy.

“I hear that there was a Russian countess there of subtle beauty,” said Socks. “And that she vamped Bill.”

“Some of the things she said about Budapest were too dreadful,” said Lady Coote. “I shall never forget them. Oswald, we must send a subscription.”

Sir Oswald grunted.

“I’ll make a note of it, Lady Coote,” said Rupert Bateman.

“Thank you, Mr. Bateman. I feel one ought to do something as a thank offering. I can’t imagine how Sir Oswald escaped being shot⁠—letting alone die of pneumonia.”