“You don’t guess anything of the kind. You know it didn’t. Oh, it was horrible, horrible!” She covered her face with her trembling hands.
Old Jack grunted.
“I think she’s right, too. You owe something to our friend here, young lady. Apparently he was expecting this visit and watched in the garden.”
“You expected it?” she gasped.
“Mr. Knebworth has made rather more of the part I played than can be justified,” said Mike. “And if you think that this is a hero’s natural modesty, you’re mistaken. I did expect this gentleman, because he’d been seen in the fields by Mr. Longvale. And you thought you saw him yourself, didn’t you, Knebworth?”
Jack nodded.
“In fact, we all saw him,” Mike went on, “and as I didn’t like the idea of a coming star (if I may express that pious hope) being subjected to the annoyance of visiting monkeys, I sat up in the garden.”
With a sudden impulsive gesture she put out her little hand, and Michael took it.
“Thank you, Mr. Brixan,” she said. “I have been wrong about you.”
“Who isn’t?” asked Mike with an extravagant shrug.