The Nun blushed just a little, and laughed just a little also. "Oh, that's your idea, Jack? You are a schemer!"
"I've got nothin' to say against Miss Vivien. But I wish it had been you, miss," Jack persisted.
"Oh, Jack, wouldn't you have been jealous? Do say you'd have been jealous!"
"Keepin' him waitin' too the way she does!" Jack's voice grew rather indignant. "It don't look to me as if she put a proper value on him, miss."
"Perhaps you're just a little bit partial to Andy?" the Nun suggested.
"And not a proper value on herself either, if she's still hankerin' after Mr. Harry. Him as is after half the women in London, if you can trust all you hear."
The Nun's face was towards the street, Jack's back towards it. The garden gate was open.
"Hush!" said the Nun softly. "Here comes Vivien!"
Poor old Jack was no diplomatist. He sprang to his feet, red as a turkey cock, and turned round to find Vivien at his elbow.
"I—I beg your pardon, miss," he stammered, rushing at the conclusion that she had overheard.