"Do you mean to say that it's a chef?"
I nodded.
My sister collapsed into a convenient chair and closed her eyes. Presently she began to shake with laughter.
"It is droll, isn't it?" said Berry. "People wouldn't believe it. Fancy travelling a hundred and fifty miles to molest a lot of strange women, and then finding that for all the good you've done you might as well have spent the day advertising for 'The Lost Chord.'"
My sister pulled herself together.
"Thank goodness, I had the sense to engage Pauline," she announced. "Something told me I'd better. But I waited before taking up her reference, on the off-chance of this one being a marvel. Where is the wretched man?"
"Jonah fetched up with him. He's stayed behind because of the Customs. They ought to be here any minute."
"Well, there's no place for him to sleep here," said Daphne. "Fitch will have to look after him for tonight, and to-morrow he'll have to go back."
Berry looked at his watch.
"Five past seven," he said. "As the blighter's here, why not let him sub-edit the dinner to-night? It'll shorten his life, but it may save ours. You never know."