"You never saw anything like it," concluded Jonah. "Within three minutes four of the police were crying, and the head bottle-washer was beating his breast and imploring me in broken accents to explain away my guilt. I threw five hundred francs on his desk and covered my eyes. With tears rolling down his cheeks, he pushed the notes under a blotting-pad and wrote laboriously upon a buff sheet. Then a woman was produced. Between explosions of distress she made us some tea. In common decency we couldn't push off for a while. Besides, I wasn't quite sure that it was all over. However, everybody seemed too overcome to say anything, so, after a bit, we chanced it and made a move for the car. To my relief, they actually helped us in, and two of them fought as to who should start us up." He looked round coldly. "And now, perhaps, you'll be good enough to tell us what we've been punished for."
I told what there was to tell.
As I came to the end. Berry nodded at Jonah.
"Yes," he said unctuously, "and let this be a lesson to you, brother."
Speechless with indignation, our cousin regarded him.
At length—
"What d'you mean?" he demanded.
Berry raised his eyebrows.
"I hardly think," he said, "the penalty for—er—loitering would have been so vindictive."