“New indeed, Bunny.”
“Ay, and I’m beginning to like it, too, lad. Well, I suppose I must be off.”
“But, Bunny, may I depend on you that you will keep this a secret?”
“May you depend on me, lad? Why, ar’n’t I said it? Did yer ever know me not keep my word?”
“Never!” cried Waller.
“Then look ’ere, sir. That means mum.”
“That” was a smart slap on the mouth, Bunny’s metaphorical way of showing that the secret of the young enthusiast who had come, as he believed, to fight for and rescue a lost cause, was within that casket and he had banged down the lid.