Mr. Billing approached. The corners of his lips were twitching in a curious way. Dr. O’Grady looked at him suspiciously. A casual observer might have supposed that Mr. Billing was trying hard not to smile.
“This,” said Dr. O’Grady, pointing to Mary Ellen, “is the grandniece, the only surviving relative, of General John Regan.”
“You surprise me,” said Mr. Billing. “When I recollect that she cooked chops for my luncheon to-day I’m amazed.”
“The General wouldn’t have thought a bit the worse of her for that,” said Dr. O’Grady. “A true democrat, the General, if ever there was one. I daresay he often cooked chops himself, when campaigning I mean, and was jolly glad to get chops to cook.”
“So you,” said Mr. Billing, addressing Mary Ellen, “are the grandniece of the great General?”
“I might be,” she said.
“And I am to have the privilege—gentlemen, please stand a little aside. I wish to——”
Mr. Billing set up his camera and put his head under the black cloth. Constable Moriarty sidled up to Major Kent. Nothing had been said about Mary Ellen’s marriage with young Kerrigan. He felt that he had been unnecessarily alarmed.
“I beg your pardon, Major,” he said, “but maybe if you asked the gentleman he’d give me a copy of the photo when it’s took.”
“Talk to the doctor about that,” said the Major. “He’s managing this show. I’ve nothing to do with it.”