He paused and blew his nose with some violence.
“Yes?” I said.
“Is to go and put a muzzle on that girl of Beresford’s.”
“If you’re offering me a choice,” I said, “I’d a great deal rather drag Miss Battersby over to the Archdeacon’s house and dump her down there in a wedding ring with a white satin dress tied round her neck by a ribbon. I might manage that, but I’m constitutionally unfitted to deal with Lalage. It was you who said you would put her in her place. I told the Archdeacon he could count on you.”
“I’ll see Beresford to-day, anyhow.”
“Not the least use. He’s going to one of the South American republics where there’s no extradition.”
“I’ll speak to your mother about it.”
“As a matter of fact,” I said, “Lalage is acting strictly in accordance with my mother’s instructions in referring this matter to you. Why not try Miss Pettigrew?”
“I will. Who is she?”
“She used to be Lalage’s schoolmistress.”