Indeed, Peter was in a terrible tangle; for she had discovered that inside her castle was a room—the Room, in fact; and this Room in its turn held a castle, the same castle—which held another Room, containing a castle, which——
“Look here,” said Stuart firmly, recalling his mind from halyard and jib, “this must be attended to at once. It’s only a recurring decimal, and if we quickly put in the dot to stop the leakage, there’s no need that it should ever recur.”
Peter demanded carelessly: “Know anything about plumbing?”
Stuart scratched his head. And the girls looked mournfully one at the other.
“Now I ask you, what is the use of a male in the house?” and: “If it were a real man, of course——”
“Damn it!” he exploded. “If you’d wanted to marry a plumber, both of you, you might have mentioned it before the ceremony.” And he added sarcastically: “I daresay St. Quentin knows a lot about plumbing.”
“Or Baldwin,” suggested Merle, who had recently met Mr. Carr at a dinner-party, and derived from him a quantity of pure happiness.
Stuart recovered his good-humour in the joy of a fresh idea: “We’ll run St. Quentin and Baldwin together, and keep the essence in a sentry-box in the Room, for the performing of odd jobs. And we’ll call him—” here a rapid hunt for suitable nomenclature, “we’ll call him Squeith.”
“Combination of St. Quentin and Keith,” commented Peter. “Very good if Baldwin’s name happened to be Keith, but as it isn’t——”
“I’m not going to be put off by a little thing like that. Squeith has got personality. Squeith pleases me. And Squeith shall immediately be set to work on that recurring decimal.”