"I haven't stolen anything," said the gentleman friend. "Here, you leave me be. It's my eyes has gone wrong. Leave go of me, d'ye hear?"
Suddenly his hand dropped and he staggered back against the water-butt. Eliza had "left go" of him. She pushed past the children, shoving them aside with her invisible elbows. Gerald caught her by the arm with one hand, felt for her ear with the other, and whispered, "You stand still and don't say a word. If you do well, what's to stop me from sending for the police?"
Eliza did not know what there was to stop him. So she did as she was told, and stood invisible and silent, save for a sort of blowing, snorting noise peculiar to her when she was out of breath.
The mustard-coloured young man had recovered his balance, and stood looking at the children with eyes, if possible, rounder than before.
"What is it?" he gasped feebly. "What's up? What's it all about?"
"If you don't know, I'm afraid we can't tell you," said Gerald politely.
"Have I been talking very strange-like?" he asked, taking off his hat and passing his hand over his forehead.
"Very," said Mabel.
"I hope I haven't said anything that wasn't good manners," he said anxiously.
"Not at all," said Kathleen. "You only said your fiancee had hold of your hand, and that you couldn't see her."