“Now, sir,” cried Lady Lisle, “what have you to say to that?”
Crash!
Chapter Twenty Four.
The Tout’s Final.
That crash was not a human utterance proceeding from the lips of Sir Hilton Lisle, but a sudden shivering of glass, followed closely by the falling of big flower-pots in the conservatory, amidst the breaking of woodwork and rustling twigs and leaves.
But a human utterance followed in an angry, raucous voice which shouted—
“Oh, murder! I’ve done it now; I’ve broke my blooming leg.”
While faintly heard from somewhere outside there was the yelping, barking, howling whine of a dog.