“No, it isn't,” said Antonia bluntly. “But what I want to know is, what have you been up to, Rudolph?”
He changed colour, but replied with an amused laugh. “Up to, Tony? How do you mean?”
“Well,” said Antonia, finishing her cocktail, “the impression I've got is that you've been forging Arnold's name or something.”
“Tony!” he cried indignantly, “If that's the opinion you have of me -”
“Do shut up!” begged Antonia. “This is serious. It's why I went down to see Arnold on Saturday night. He said he was going to prosecute you.”
“Swine!”
“I know, but what was it all about?”
Mesurier took a turn round the studio, his hands thrust into his pockets. “I'm in a damned awkward position!” he said suddenly. “God knows knows I didn't want you to be dragged into it, but if I don't tell you some one else will. Think me what you like.”
“Sorry to interrupt, but just open that cupboard and see if there's a bottle of salted almonds, will you?” asked Antonia. “I've suddenly remembered buying some and putting them either there or -”
“They aren't here,” said Rudolph in all offended voice.