On the pavement in front of the striped awning stood Mr. Bundercombe— large, beaming, both hands outstretched. Eve waved her handkerchief. As we finally disappeared she glanced toward me.
"Has dad been up to anything, Paul?" she asked. "He has just that kind of satisfied expression that always used to terrify me."
"Like a cat licking its whiskers after a stolen saucer of milk!" I suggested.
She laughed.
"You mustn't make fun of dad," she begged. "He's such a dear!"
"I shall never attempt to make fun of your father," I assured her fervently. "I think he is quite the most remarkable man I ever met! And now——"
End of Project Gutenberg's An Amiable Charlatan, by E. Phillips Oppenheim