Lucy with very bright eyes looked from one to the other of her lovers. Each wore a mask. She determined to ask James to give up the Folgefond, discerning trouble in the air.
They went home by water, and Lancelot added his unconscious testimony. He was between Urquhart's knees, his hand upon the tiller, his mood confidential.
"I say—" he began, and Urquhart encouraged him to say on.
—"It's slightly important, but I suppose I couldn't do the Folgefond by any chance?"
"You are saying a good deal," said Urquhart. "I'll put it like this, that by some chance you might, but by no chance in the world could Patrick."
"Hoo!" said Lancelot, "and why not, pray?"
"His mother would put her foot on it. Splosh! it would go like a cockroach."
"I know," said dreamy Lancelot. "That's what would happen to me, I expect." Then he added, "That's what will happen to my father."
"Good cockroach," said Urquhart, looking ahead of him. "You think she won't want him to go."
Lancelot snorted. "Won't want him! Why, she doesn't already. And he'll do what she wants, I'll bet you."