And presently he was knocking at Maud's door.
'Maudie!'
'Who is it?' came a voice.
'It's thy owd uncle. Can'st spare a minute?'
Maud appeared at the door, smiling, and arrayed in a peignoir.
'HE'S gone out,' said Dan, implying scorn of the person who had gone out. 'Wilt come down-stairs?'
'Where's he gone to?' Maud demanded.
She didn't even pretend she was ill.
'Th' Club,' said Dan.
And in about a hundred seconds or so he had her in the drawing-room, and she was actually pouring out gin for him. She looked ravishing in that peignoir, especially as she was munching an apple, and balancing herself on the arm of a chair.