During the uproar they had not heard wheels in the drive, so they were startled by Vessons' intrigue insertion of himself into a small opening of the door, his firm shutting of it as if in face of a beleaguering host, and his stentorian whisper:
'Ere's Clombers now!' as if to say, 'When you let a woman in you never know what'll become of it.'
'Tell 'em I'm ill—dead!' said his master. 'Tell 'em I'm in the bath—anything, only send them away!'
They heard Vessons recitative.
'The master's very sorry, mum, but he's got the colic too bad to see you. It's heave, curse, heave, curse, till I pray for a good vomit!'
The Clombers, urgent upon his track, shouldered past and strode in.
'What the devil do they want?' muttered Reddin. He rose sulkily.
'I hear,' said the eldest Miss Clomber, who had read Bordello and was very clever, 'that young Lochinvar has taken to himself a bride.'
This was quite up to her usual standard, for not only had it the true literary flavour, but it was ironic, for she knew who Hazel was.
''Er?' queried Reddin, shaking hands in his rather race-course manner.