The Admiral also had seen the skies darken. It was time to take in the thrush. So he leant out of his upstairs window to unhook the osier cage. His window and Mrs. Poskett's were so close together that—well—the Admiral and the widow could, at a pinch, have kissed if they had been so minded. But nothing was further from, the Admiral's thoughts.
"Sempronius!" screamed Mrs. Poskett.
"Ah!" chuckled the Admiral, "it's no use calling him, ma'am. He 's got his eye on the fish!"
"You don't mean to say the Eyesore's caught one!" cried Mrs. Poskett.
The Admiral laughed as he looked at the Eyesore. Laughed more than the occasion seemed to justify. "Ay, ay! he's wonderfully patient and persistent!"
The widow's face, as he leant out to see the fish, was very near the Admiral's.
"Astonishing what patience and persistence 'll do, Admiral," said she, coquettishly. She withdrew quickly and closed her window.
The Admiral was puzzled. What did she mean? But he shook off his forebodings. He turned to where the Eyesore, buried more than usual in his horrible old hat, was putting on new bait, and gave a low whistle. The Eyesore signalled to him to be quiet and at that moment he became aware of Madame, who was moving away from the Gazebo. "Gobblessmysoul! Madame!" he muttered to himself with inexplicable confusion, and hastily withdrew out of sight with his thrush.
Miss Barbara Pennymint came hopping down her steps, followed by Marjolaine. Madame had recovered her self-possession. "Ah!" she cried, seeing Marjolaine, "I was a little alarmed about you. Did you not hear me call?"
"No, Maman chérie."