I had not thought of that and I deemed it considerate in the burglar.
I led the way to the pantry, where I found a pitcher of rich milk and a pan of berries and when Mrs. Vernon and Minerva came down stairs, the burglar and I sat at the dinner table, eating berries like the best of friends.
“Frightened, Minerva?” asked I with a reassuring smile.
“Yas’r,” was the monosyllabic and therefore reassuring reply.
“I’m sorry if I disturbed you, Minerva,” said the burglar with an assumption of breeziness that sat very well on him.
Minerva smiled foolishly. She was abashed.
“I missed my way, Tom,” said he, turning to me, “and it’s a wonder I got here at all.”
“Will you please explain why you call me Tom,” said I, giving him a cue, “when my name is Philip Vernon.”
“Simply because I’ve been spending a week with Tom,” said he, “and he is very well indeed.”
“Hasn’t he had any return of those spells?” asked I with mock concern.