Whilst he was talking Jimmy was rapidly apparelling himself. At the end of ten minutes he was ready to face his unknown guests. As he opened the door of his sitting-room the first person he saw was a dark, slim girl who was totally unknown to him. She was standing by the mantelpiece, leaning against it. Then his glance went on to the big leather-covered armchair, and his heart missed a beat. Loraine!
It was she who rose and spoke first a little nervously.
“You must be very surprised to see me. But I had to come. I’ll explain in a minute. This is Lady Eileen Brent.”
“Bundle—that’s what I’m usually known as. You’ve probably heard of me from Bill Eversleigh.”
“Oh, rather, of course I have,” said Jimmy, endeavouring to cope with the situation. “I say, do sit down and let’s have a cocktail or something.”
But both girls declined.
“As a matter of fact,” continued Jimmy, “I’m only just out of bed.”
“That’s what Bill said,” remarked Bundle. “I told him I was coming round to see you, and he said you wouldn’t be up.”
“Well, I’m up now,” said Jimmy encouragingly.
“It’s about Gerry,” said Loraine. “And now about Ronny—”
“What do you mean by ‘and now about Ronny’?”
“He was shot yesterday.”
“What?” cried Jimmy.
Bundle told her story for the second time.