"Not a talking one; Miss Walsh wanted something pretty——"
"Well, what about 'The Naughty Sporty Girl,' Miss Olwen?"
"Bai Jove, did you hear him in——?"
"Heaps of room to dance, if——"
"Look out, please," said Keith Cartwright, lugging at a heavy flat packet; and presently he put on a loud "selection" from some revue.
It was under cover of this music that Captain Ross who had been carrying on with his Scots friend a conversation that seemed to consist of variations on the letter R, suddenly left him in the middle of a question as to the "Pairrrrrrrrrrsonnel" at the Honeycomb, and came up to Awdas, who was making his way to a vacant place on the arm of the couch whereon Golden was sitting.
With some force, Captain Ross gripped him by the upper arm. In the tone of one who has been for hours storing up some accumulated grievance, he muttered, "Say, Jack. I've got to have a word with you. Now," he added, peremptorily, "Come out here, will you?"