“I’m a naughty old Uncle Isaac,” he moaned. “I’m a naughty old Uncle Isaac!”
His moan came up from the deep recesses of the kitchen.
CHAPTER XX
“Bobbie!”
The girl came toward him with both hands outstretched. Behind her in the hall he saw a strange shadow.
“Hullo, dear! I came as soon as you wanted me, I hope?”
Mr. Dempsi was now visible. His black sombrero gave him a sinister appearance. His voice was querulous, his manner menacing.
“Dear?” he asked deeply. “Who calls you ‘dear’? What is this man to you, Diana?”
“My dear Mr. Dempsi,” she said wearily, “this gentleman.”
But he was furious; flung his hat on the ground and swung his cloak from him with the air of a capelerro. Bobbie expected to see a belt with knives and pistols—the poker dot waistcoat was an anticlimax.