"And of course, Matilda," he went on, "if, say, any of the neighbors happen to drop in for a cup of tea and see me, or if the police should manage to trail me here,—and they may, you know,—of course, Matilda, you'll speak right up and say I'm your dear brother."
At that moment it was beyond either of them to speak right up.
"Remember, my dears, that we're all crooks together," he prompted in a soft voice, that had a steely suggestion beneath it. "And in case you fail to stand by me it would give me very great pain—very great pain, I assure you—to have to blow on you."
Matilda gulped, blinked her eyes, and looked helplessly at Mrs. De Peyster. Mr. Pyecroft turned to the latter.
"Of course, Angelica, dear, you're going to stand by me?"
Mrs. De Peyster hesitated, then breathed a barely audible "Yes."
"And you, Matilda, who were always my favorite sister, you, too, will stand by me?"
"Yes," breathed Matilda.
"Ah," said Mr. Pyecroft, in a moved tone, "such family loyalty is truly touching. I foresee a most pleasant summer."