"Supposing I get underneath," he enquired, "and it turns out to be only you?"
Peggy considered. Then her face dimpled. The game of conspirators was, indeed, exhilarating.
"I shall knock seven times on the floor with a stick," she announced, "before I come down the passage. Then you will know."
"That will be splendid," agreed Philip. "You are awfully clever," he added admiringly, as the directress of his fortunes turned to go.
Peggy swung round again, with her fingers on the doorhandle. A sudden rush of colour swept across her face and neck, and for a moment her wide brown eyes met Philip's. Then the lashes dropped again.
"I say, Phil," she said shyly, "I'll be your Lady if you like."
Next moment she was gone, and our knight, feeling that he had been somewhat remiss in not having made the suggestion himself, was left listening to the sound of his Lady's feet limping down the passage.
CHAPTER IX
GENUS IRRITABILE