His lordship scrambled out, spluttering, and Hannah Marryat suddenly burst out into the first laugh Peter had ever heard her give.
"Truth, they say, was nobody's daughter;
She took off her clothes and fell into the water,"
she proclaimed.
"Well, I couldn't take my clothes off with you here, could I?" grumbled Lord Peter. "We'll have to fish out the papers. I'm afraid they've got a bit damp."
Miss Marryat turned on the lights, and they started to clear the basin.
"Truth, poor girl——" began Lord Peter, and suddenly, with a little shriek, began to dance on the marble edge of the impluvium.
"One, two, three, four, five, six——"
"Quite, quite demented," said Mary. "How shall I break it to mother?"
"Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen!" cried his lordship, and sat down, suddenly and damply, exhausted by his own excitement.