“Don't be childish, Kenneth,” interposed Violet. “It isn't for me to make a suggestion, but don't you think Mr Carrington ought to be told what's happened?”
“You don't mean to tell me Uncle Charles isn't dead yet?” said Roger. “I don't want to see him. The last time I set eyes on him he said a whole lot of things I'm glad I can't remember.”
“You won't have to see him,” replied Antonia. “Giles took over all our affairs years ago.”
“Oh, Giles!” said Roger. “Well, I don't mind him. Do just as you like about it. Now I come to think of it, he wasn't a bad chap at all. I was at school with him.”
“Yes, till they sacked you,” said Kenneth.
“You've got that muddled up,” said Roger. “You're thinking of Oxford. Now, there I did get into trouble. I forget the rights of it, but there was a lot of unpleasantness one way or another. As a matter of fact, I've been very unlucky all my life. Not that I'm complaining.”
Antonia, apparently thinking that Violet's suggestion was a good one, had walked across the studio to the telephone, and was dialling her cousin's number. He answered the call himself, and as soon as Antonia heard his voice, she said without any preamble: “Giles, are you doing anything? Because if not you'd better come round at once.”
“Had I?” he said. “What's happened now?”
“Something utterly sickening. Roger's turned up.”
“What?”