Those had been Lord Manister's last words.
"He did. He is improved. He's a sportsman, after all. It was decent of him to send back the trap for me. But I didn't want to get in—I was jolly scotty with myself for getting in. I say, Tiny!"
"Well?"
He had her by the arm.
"I don't ask any questions. I don't want to know a single thing. I hope he went down on his knees for his sins; I hope you gave him fits! But look here, Tiny: I won't say a word about this inside if you'd rather I didn't."
"I'd rather you did," Tiny said at once. "There's nothing to hide. But—you can be a dear, good boy when you like, Herbs!"
"Can I? Then you can be offended if you like—but he's on the job now if he never was in his life before!"
"I won't say I hope he isn't," Tiny whispered.
So she was not offended.