“Sorry. But somehow those clocks have always given me the shivers. I dream of them sometimes. I’d hate to go into that room in the dark and see them there in a row.”
“You wouldn’t be able to see them if it was dark,” said Bundle practically. “Not unless they had luminous dials—Oh!” She gave a sudden gasp and the colour rushed into her cheeks. “Don’t you see? Seven Dials! ”
The others looked at her doubtfully, but she insisted with increasing vehemence.
“It must be. It can’t be a coincidence.”
There was a pause.
“You may be right,” said Jimmy Thesiger at last. “It’s—it’s dashed odd.”
Bundle started questioning him eagerly.
“Who bought the clocks?”
“All of us.”
“Who thought of them?”
“All of us.”
“Nonsense, somebody must have thought of them first.”
“It didn’t happen that way. We were discussing what we could do to get Gerry up, and Pongo said an alarm clock, and somebody said one would be no good, and somebody else—Bill Eversleigh, I think—said why not get a dozen. And we all said good egg and hoofed off to get them. We got one each and an extra one for Pongo and one for Lady Coote—just out of the generosity of our hearts. There was nothing premeditated about it—it just happened.”