"Yes."
"Are they great friends?"
"We all know each other very well."
Miss Cornell laughed genially.
"I should say you do—isn't it true that you are called the three bad men all over Africa—come now?"
"I'm afraid someone has been filling your head with nonsense. Who spreads these stories, I wonder?"
"Ah, yes, that's all very well, but you know it's true, all the same. You are three dangerous, fascinating men, everyone says so, and the Kaffirs have names for you all. What is yours, Mr. Bramham?"
"Kaffirs have names for everybody if one had time to find out what they were."
"Oh, I know—Umkoomata—that's what they call you. Now, what wickedness can that mean?"
"Who tells you these wonderful things, my dear young lady? You really have a lot of inside information about everything. You should start a newspaper." Bramham was slightly exasperated.