“She’s drowned—she’s drowned, my boy.”
“Nonsense, ma! You’re always thinking someone is drowned. Then she has bolted. Oh, I say!”
“No, sir; she has not bolted, as you term it in your miserable horsey slang. You’ve taken her away—there; don’t deny it. You’ve got her somewhere, and you think you can set me at defiance.”
“Do I, guv’nor?”
“Yes, sir, you do. But I’ve warned you and shown you how you stand. Now, look here; your only chance is to give up and do exactly as I tell you.”
“Oh, is it?” said the young man mockingly.
“Yes, sir, it is. Now then, be frank and open with me at once, and I may be able to help you out of the miserable hole in which you have plunged us.”
“Go ahead, then. Have it your own way, guv’nor.”
“No time must be lost—that is, if you are not deceiving me and have already had the ceremony performed.”
“I didn’t stand on ceremony,” said Claud, with a laughing sneer; “I gave her a few kisses, and a nice row was the result.”