"Oh, not at all," said Eustace, mechanically, and led the way to his sitting-room, wondering what ill wind had blown her hither. "But I wish you had given me notice of your coming."
Miss Berry--as she chose to be called--plumped into a seat, and cast an eye over the untidy table. "You didn't want to be found at breakfast so late," she said smiling. "I thought you were an early riser."
"I had a bad night," said Eustace, shortly.
Fan selected a cigarette from a box near at hand, and lighted it. "I don't wonder at that," she said through a cloud of blue smoke. "If you will shelter criminals, what can you expect?"
Jarman started uneasily. "What do you mean?" he demanded frowning.
"Why," said she, waving a daintily gloved hand, "it seems that Frank Lancaster's been with you. What a cunning fellow you are, Eustace. I guess you gave Uncle Banjo and me the outside running."
"I don't know why you want the inside."
"No. And nobody else does," she replied, smartly.
"Not even Balkis?" hinted Jarman, and could have bitten out his tongue for making a remark so calculated to place her on her guard.
As it was, she coloured and looked keenly at him. "I guess you know more about the matter than you'll give away."