Before she had time to open it, a cry from Lola stopped her. "Ah, Dios!" Lola exclaimed, and pointed dramatically to the window.
Geoffrey stood there, looking hot and dishevelled and nerve-ridden.
"Geoffrey! Where on earth have you been?" said Dinah involuntarily.
He passed a hand across his brow. "What's that got to do with you?" he said. "I don't know. Miles away." He became aware of their eyes staring at him, and said sharply: "What are you all looking at me for? It's nothing to do with you where I've been, is it?"
Dr Raymond stepped up to him, and took him by the arm. "Steady, young man. You're a bit over-done. Sit down. Something rather shocking has happened. Your father has been — well, murdered, I'm afraid."
Geoffrey looked blankly up at him. "What? Father's been murdered?" He blinked rather dazedly. "Are you going potty? I — you don't mean it, do you?" He read the answer in the doctor's face, and suddenly got up. "Good God!" he said. His mouth began to quiver; to their dismay he started to giggle, in helpless, lunatic gusts.
"Wells," Camilla gasped. "I must say!"
"Stop that!" Raymond said harshly. "Stop at once, Geoffrey: do you hear me? Now control yourself! Quite quiet!"
"Oh, I c-can't help it! Oh God, d-don't you's-see horn, f-funny it is?" wailed Geoffrey. "Your f, faces! Oh, d-don't make me laugh!"
Dinah vanished from the room, to reappear in a few moments with the brandy decanter and a glass. The doctor and Mrs. Twining were standing over Geoffrey, who had grown quieter, but who was still shaking with idiotic mirth.