Mrs. Waterbrook interrupted him with a shriek.
"He's outside my bedroom," she wailed. "By the side of the tall-boy.
I suppose it's too much to hope that you've got my tea."
"Tea?" we screamed.
"Tea," piped our hostess. "Beautiful China tea. Thirty-five pounds of it. Under the camisoles."
Berry raised his eyes to heaven.
"Modesty forbade us," he said, "to go further than the b-b-b-bust b-b-b-bodices."
* * * * *
It was in the midst of our rejoicing that Piers set foot on the verandah. For a moment he stood staring, pardonably bewildered, at the two smugglers, who were saluting one another respectively with a profound curtsey and the most elaborate of bows. Then he pulled open the great window and stepped hesitatingly into the room.
As he did so, the door was flung open, and a man-servant appeared.
"Mees Mansel," he announced.