“Of course not. I wish I was as brave as you, Nicky.”
The softy swelled with pride. The others stared at Grimshaw, who dominated them as he did the stunted intelligence in front of him. He continued lightly:
“Shall I tell you a secret?”
“Ah-h-h!”
“I am a bit afeard of somebody. Guess.”
An unexpected answer introduced a touch of comedy. Nick grinned broadly:
“I knows—Miss Cicely.”
For an instant Grimshaw was disconcerted; Cicely blushed. Fortunately nobody perceived this.
“No, no. I am afeard of George Ball, the constable.”
The shot went home. Nick squirmed.