"You mean about seeing Pam?"
"Yes. Suppose we find Mother knows nothing and is secure and comfortable as usual, and that Pam is up in her room. Well, what ought we to do?"
"Oh, I don't know," said Adrian irritably, "it's sickening. One can't go clacking to Mother about Pam--it simply isn't done," he shut the gates with a vicious snap.
"That's what I thought," Crow was relieved, "let's wait and see what Pam says--I'll go and ask her to-night."
"Just as you like," agreed Adrian indifferently, and they went in.
Mrs. Romilly was reading the paper; she was delighted to see them, and eager to hear all details. She said she had not been anxious, because Pam told her they proposed landing if the weather was bad. At this point Adrian turned his head discreetly to conceal a smile. When the storm passed she had been quite happy; and, when the telegram came, had considered it all a most wise arrangement.
"Your hair looks so nice, darling," she said, looking approvingly at Adrian's sleek head.
Pleading sleepiness the two went off to bed, and on the landing upstairs Christobel said: "Wait a minute," and slipped down to Pamela's room at the end.
She knocked. There was no answer, so she opened the door gingerly, and put her head into the opening. A long heap in the bed stirred, and turned over with a jerk.
"Hullo, who is it; what do you want, Hughie?" demanded Pamela in the slurring tones of one but half awake.