“I am in your hands,” he acquiesced.
“I couldn’t come last night,” she explained. “That beast of a Montague watched me all the evening.—Now let me get your breakfast up, in case we are interrupted.”
There followed five minutes of the new sport, after which Jacob found himself with a thermos flask filled with coffee, a packet of hard-boiled eggs, and more sandwiches.
“I should think that ought to see you through,” she said. “Things will probably happen to-day.”
“What sort of things?” he demanded eagerly.
She shook her head.
“I shan’t tell you anything! Only I’m doing my best.”
He leaned a little farther out of the aperture.
“You’re an amazing person,” he declared. “I can’t tell you, Lady Mary, how grateful I feel to you. You’ve enabled me to keep my end up. I should have hated being robbed by those blackguards—Hartwell and Montague, I mean,” he concluded hastily.