“Is that all you remember?” Mrs. Dan now was plying questions recklessly, regardlessly, as if Bob were on the witness-stand and she were state prosecutor.
“About all. Oh!—her nose turned up and she had a freckle.”
“How interesting!” Mrs. Dan’s laugh was rather forced, and she and Mrs. Clarence again exchanged glances, but Bob didn’t notice. “And what was she called?” Breathing a little hard.
“Gid-up,” said Bob gravely.
“‘Gid-up’!” Again the lady almost had a paroxysm, but whether or not of mirth, who shall say. “Gee-gee and Gid-up!” Her broad bosom rose and fell.
“Telegram, sir!” At that moment Bob heard another voice at his elbow. Across the table the man with the monocle was gazing at him curiously.
CHAPTER VII—VARYING VICISSITUDES
A footman had brought the message, which Bob now took and opened mechanically. It was from the commodore.
“For heaven’s sake,” it ran, “return at once to New York Will explain.”
Bob eyed it gloomily. The commodore must have been considerably rattled when he had sent that.