"I'm not quite sure," came the answer. "It used to be, but since the experiences of the last ten minutes…'
"Good heavens, you haven't seen the ghost, have you?" cried Margaret.
Charles appeared in the doorway, minus his shoes. Over his shoulder Peter said, grinning: "He encountered a little mud, that's all."
"If you want to know the truth," said Charles, "I have narrowly escaped death by drowning in quicksands. Thank you, yes, and don't overdo the soda! Too much of water hast thou, poor Charles Malcolm."
"Oh, I know! You must have found that boggy patch," said Margaret.
"I trust it was not the cesspool," Mrs. Bosanquet said, in mild concern.
"So do I," Charles said. "That thought had not so far occurred to me, but - but I do hope it wasn't."
"Take heart," said Strange, setting down his glass. "I think your cesspool is more likely to be down near the river." He went up to Celia, and held out his hand. "I'm sure you're longing to get to bed, Mrs. Malcolm, so I'll say good-night."
He took his leave of them all. Peter escorted him to the front door, and when the two of them had left the room Charles said: "Well, of all the miserable conspirators commend me to you three! I should think by to-morrow the whole countryside will know that something has happened here."
"Really, Charles!" Mrs. Bosanquet expostulated. "It is true that I was about to make a reference to what happened last night, but I am sure I covered it up most naturally.,