“More’s the pity. What he said was: ‘I told you so. The winners whack the losers with the stumps.’”
“By gum!” said George with a laugh. “That stumped ’em. What happened next?”
“Oh! I buried myself behind my paper. I dislike extremely being disturbed in that way.”
“There are about half a dozen altogether,” said George. “The Count and another are at the Anchor: the rest, servants, I suppose, have overflowed into the Old King’s Head. Rather hard on the boating-men, isn’t it? Several couldn’t get rooms to-day.”
“Really, George, I hope you are not becoming a Paul Pry.”
“Of course not. Sheila went into the post-office to get some stamps, and had it all thrown at her by the girl there. Foreign counts are a rarity in Shepperton. What in the world brought them here? They don’t appear to go in for boating.”
“My dear fellow, does it matter?”
“Well no, but it’s funny, that’s all.”
Mrs. Courtenay-Greene agreed with her elder nephew that it was undesirable to pay any attention to the strangers, even though one of them was a count and a general.
“It is perfectly shocking,” she said, “the way we are being eaten up by aliens.”