In one of the private sitting-rooms of the hotel, Miss Grainger was lolling back in a comfortable wicker chair reading a newspaper.
The door opening made her look round.
A slim, boyish figure entered the room, clad in a well-cut white riding suit, the neatest of brown boots and leggings, and a white felt hat pulled well on to a mop of curls.
"You're late starting this morning, Pansy."
"I am. But—last night I saved a man's life."
"Saved a man's life! Really, my dear, what a way you have of springing surprises on one."
Teasingly Pansy glanced at her old governess.
"Miss Grainger, I must remind you that 'springing surprises' is slang."
Miss Grainger ignored the reprimand.
"But what man did you save, and how did you save him?" she asked in a slightly bewildered manner.