Almost immediately—
“Toby darling,” cried Miss Voile, “have you got a cigarette?”
There was an awful silence.
Miss Woolly, who had a keen sense of humour, set her white teeth and fought to suppress her mirth. Head up, Mrs. Medallion stared in the direction from which the voice had come, as one who has detected an unlawful and offensive smell. Fingers to mouth, Captain Rage was glancing over his shoulder with the nervous apprehension of the escaped felon who has heard his pursuers decide to bomb his lair.
Two sweet, pretty hands appeared upon the miniature wall.
The next moment, looking extraordinarily lovely, a flushed and hatless Cicely pulled herself abreast of the parapet.
Toby stepped forward, put his hands under her arms and lifted the lithe figure on to the road.
Then he turned to his aunt.
“This is Miss Voile, Aunt Ira—Miss Cicely Voile. Cicely, this is my aunt, Mrs. Medallion.”
Cicely stepped to the car and put out her hand.