Not that there was any need for haste, though. By the time he had opened the door and stepped into the living-room the little excitement seemed to have quieted down again. Anthony, bathrobed also, was just issuing from his bedroom, and again, for a moment, they gazed at one another.
"What was it that time?" Johnson Boller asked.
"I've no idea. Did you hear it, too?"
"Naturally. I——"
"Why, Wilkins!" Anthony Fry all but gasped, as his servitor appeared in the doorway. "What under the sun's the matter with you?"
"My—my eye, sir!" choked the faithful one. "It's downright scandalous, Mr. Fry!"
"What is?"
"The—the woman, sir! The woman that's come to see him!"
His jaw sagged senselessly and his blank eyes regarded his master quite fishily; and Anthony, after a wondering second or so, scuffed over to him and snapped:
"What's wrong with you, Wilkins? What woman came?"