"It is Mr. Bomford!" she cried.
Burton sighed—with relief.
"I am glad to hear that it is human," he murmured. "I thought that it was a Wells nightmare or that something from underground had been let loose."
She shot an indignant glance at him. Her greeting of Mr. Bomford was almost enough to turn his head. She held out both her hands.
"My dear Mr.—my dear Paul!" she exclaimed. "How glad I am to see you!
Have you motored down?"
"Obviously, my dear, obviously," the newcomer remarked, removing further portions of his disguise and revealing a middle-aged man of medium height and unimposing appearance, with slight sandy whiskers and moustache. "A very hot and dusty ride too. Still, after your father's message I did not hesitate for a second. Where is he, Edith? Have you any idea what it is that he wants?"
She shook her head.
"Did he send for you?" she asked.
"Send for me!" Mr. Bomford repeated. "I should rather think he did."
He looked inquiringly towards Burton. Edith introduced them.