“Oh, I can’t bear it,” cried Christopher, covering his eyes. “Never mind. Look in the blinkin’ glass. . . . That’ll give you an idea. Of course, it won’t be the same. You’ve a way—a carelessness of pose and gesture that takes a man by the throat. It’s a sort of assault—a precious battery. Sitting up on that stile, just as if you’d alighted—dropped out of the sky, swinging your sweet, pretty leg, with a hand on your hip and a maddening smile on your mouth, ‘all on a summer’s day’—well, I give you my word, I almost expected you to say ‘He’s pinched the lot.’ ”
In a shaking voice—
“I’m sure,” said Audrey, “Bo-Peep would never have——”
Christopher rose to his feet and knocked out his pipe.
“Who’s talkin’ about Bo-Peep?” he said contemptuously. “The lady I saw was H.M. The Queen of Hearts.”
At five minutes to ten the next morning Audrey was leaning against the Manor House gates. These were of wrought iron and great beauty.
As Christopher John approached—
“Have you got his address?” she demanded.
Christopher mentioned a Club.