Helen coloured. "Well, no, I - I have been once or twice before, but not after I realised he had fallen in love with me. Honestly, I used to look on him as an exciting sort of uncle."
"More fool you. Carry on! When did you set out on this silly expedition?"
"At half-past nine, when I knew you'd had time to get absorbed in your silly book," retorted Helen, with a flash of spirit. "And I knew that Ernie was in his study, because when I turned up into Maple Grove from the Arden Road, I saw a man come out of the Greystones side gate, and walk off towards Vale Avenue."
"Abraham," said Neville. "Well, that settles him, at all events. Pity: the name had possibilities."
"I don't know what you're talking about. I let myself into the garden, and walked up the path to Ernie's study. Ernie was there, but I soon saw I'd made a mistake to come. He was - almost horrid - as horrid as a person with charm like his could be."
"That's what comes of getting me to become a pukka sahib," said Neville. "You can't blame Ernie."
"How long did you stay with him?" demanded Sally. "Think! it's probably important."
"I don't have to think: I know," said Helen. "Ernie said something about my being found with him at a compromising hour, and I looked at the clock, and said if he thought a quarter to ten a compromising hour he must be actually a Victorian, though I'd thought him merely Edwardian."
"Good!" approved Sally.
"Yes, I was in a rage," admitted Helen. "And I walked straight out, the way I'd come."