“Are you sure the name of that Johnny who came here yesterday was Ventnor?”
Phyllis nodded.
“And he was short, and had whiskers?”
“Yes; red, and red eyes.”
He murmured reluctantly:
“It must be him. Jolly good cheek; I simply can't understand. I shall go and see him. How on earth did he know your address?”
“I expect you gave it him.”
“I did not. I won't have you thinking me a squirt.”
Phyllis jumped up. “Oh! Lawks! Here's mother!” Mrs. Larne was coming up the garden. Bob Pillin made for the door. “Good-bye,” he said; “I'm going.” But Mrs. Larne was already in the hall. Enveloping him in fur and her rich personality, she drew him with her into the drawing-room, where the back window was open and Phyllis gone.
“I hope,” she said, “those naughty children have been making you comfortable. That nice lawyer of yours came yesterday. He seemed quite satisfied.”