The colonel stopped the car. "Don't go on saying, 'What ho, demmit," he complained. "We can't stay. We're in a hurry. What do you want?"
"Come on in," invited the other hospitably. "Have a cocktail. I know it's early, but have one anyway. Besides, there's news." He turned his head over his shoulder, and called, "Madeleine!"
At the sight of the amber-brown contents of that glass, Donovan's feelings underwent a sudden convulsion. On the lawn beyond the hedge he could see an enormous beach umbrella propped up over a table bearing materials which reminded him forcibly of New York. And, unless his eyes were deceiving him, the sides of that great nickelled cocktail-shaker were pale with moisture. A nostalgia swept over him. He was aware that ice for drinks was an almost unknown commodity in rural England. At the young man's hail, a girl's head appeared round the edge of the umbrella and gave everybody a beaming smile.
Getting up from a deck chair, she hurried to the gate. She was a dark-eyed, bouncing little piece of the sort known as a Japanese brunette; and that she was sturdy and admirably fashioned was rendered obvious by the fact that she wore beach pyjamas and one of those short silk coats with the flowers on them. She hung over the gate, inspected them all pleasantly, raised her eyebrows, and said, "Hullo!" as though she were very pleased with herself for thinking of it.
Colonel Standish coughed when he saw the pyjamas, looked at the bishop, and went on hastily:
"Don't think everybody knows everybody. Hum. This is Dr. Fell — detective fella, you know; heard me speak of him, hey? — come down from Scotland Yard. And Mr. Donovan, the bishop's son… I want you to meet," he said, rather proudly, "Henry Morgan, the writin' fella. And Mrs. Morgan."
Donovan stared as the introductions were acknowledged. Not even his formidable father could keep him quiet now.
"Excuse me," he said, " you are Henry Morgan?"
Morgan wryly scratched the tip of his ear. "Um," he said in an embarrassed way. "I was afraid of that. Madeleine wins another bob. You see, the bet is that if you say that to me, I pay her a shilling. If, on the other hand; you look at her and make some remark about The Old, Bold Mate of Henry Morgan,' then I win it. However…"
"Hoora!" gurgled Madeleine delightedly. "I win. Pay me." She regarded Dr. Fell and said with candor: "I like you." Then she looked at Donovan and added with equal impartiality: "I like you too."