"You cut along," said Busby.
"Grand idea," said Cacklin; "every one's got to come up chaperoned by his grandmother. If he ain't got a grandmother he gets the lady lodger instead. What do you think of it, eh?"
"Now, clear out," said Gray, threateningly.
"Excepting the guvnor," added Cacklin; "and he brings his aunt. Darling little bit o' sugar-stuff she is, too, I give yer my word."
And the genial youth affected to put his lower jaw into a position from which it would not return to the normal.
"What's all that rot?" asked Gray, who scented some truth in the nonsense.
Mr. Cacklin obligingly informed his hearers that their respected chief had been accompanied to the office that morning by his aunt, who was now settled in the biggest armchair upstairs with her hat and jacket off, as if she meant to stay.
Gray and Busby exchanged glances.
"That settles it, for the present," said Busby, as Cacklin disappeared; "we can't go while she's there."
"She'll be off after lunch," said Gray. "On the whole I think it's better to tackle him after lunch."