"Venez. Restez près de moi," he said.
On arriving at Charing Cross we left Jonah and the cook to weather the Customs, and drove straight to Cholmondeley Street.
As we entered the hall, my sister came flying out of the library.
"Hello," she cried, "where's the cook? Don't say——"
Berry uncovered.
"Pardon, madame," he said, "mais vous êtes Camille Franç——That's your cue. Now you say 'Serwine!' Just like that. 'Serwine!' Put all the loathing you can into it—you'll find it can hold quite a lot—and fix me with a glassy eye. Then I blench and break out Into a cold sweat. Oh, it's a great game."
"Poor old chap," said Daphne. "It must have been awful. But haven't you got her?"
"It's a he!" cried Jill, squeaking with excitement. "It's a he. Jonah's bringing him——"
"A what?" said my sister, taking a pace backward.
"A male," said I. "You know. Like Nobby. Separate legs, and shaves on Thursdays."