The next moment the door burst open, and an infuriated object rushed in. His face was wild, and his hand was bandaged, showing a great red stain on the thumb.
“What’s this —— jest?” he howled furiously. “And this damned bandage all covered with red ink?”
“You must ask our friend here, Mullings,” said Hugh. “He’s got a peculiar sense of humour. Anyway, he’s got the bill in his hand.”
In silence they watched Peterson open the paper and read the contents, while the girl leant over his shoulder.
To Mr. Peterson, The Elms, Godalming
£. s. d.
To hire of one demobilised soldier . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 0 0
To making him drunk (in this item present strength and
cost of drink and said soldier’s capacity must be
allowed for) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 0 0
To bottle of red ink . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 0 0 1
To shock to system . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10 0 0
---------
TOTAL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . £20 0 1
---------
It was Irma who laughed.
“Oh! but, my Hugh,” she gurgled, “que vous êtes adorable!”
But he did not look at her. His eyes were on Peterson, who with a perfectly impassive face was staring at him fixedly.
CHAPTER IV
IN WHICH HE SPENDS A QUIET NIGHT AT THE ELMS