"Oh! how you do talk, Mr. Eves!" said Mrs. Pouncey. "I'll go, then, to please you, and I hope as I shan't be sorry for it."
"I don't think you will; in fact I think you will have quite a pleasant entertainment. Mr. Noakes has insisted on the hall being warm and cosy-like, and the chairs are quite good. I'll find you a good place at the back of the hall."
"Not too far back, then, for my hearing bain't what it was."
"But your eyes are good—wonderfully good for a lady of forty or so. You shall sit where you can hear—and see—everything."
Templeton had privately taken Eves to task for persuading the old dame to venture out on a cold night; but Eves had only chuckled.
The young officers were both in mufti, Eves having borrowed an old suit from his friend.
It was twenty minutes to seven when they reached the hall. The first few rows of chairs were already occupied, and people were streaming in. Eves piloted Mrs. Pouncey to a seat in the middle of the sixth row from the back wall.
"It do be warmish, to be sure," she said, removing her tippet.
"Thanks to the mayor! Bob, look after Mrs. Pouncey. I'll be back presently."
He dodged his way through the incoming stream, and disappeared.