"And a dashed good idea, too," said Geordie. "I hate interferin' folks worse than policemen. I'd tell her ladyship about this here bishop. And Lord Bradstock was with him, sir."
"The devil!" said Bob, and he ran to Penelope bawling.
"I say, Pen, you'll have to go," he roared, bursting into the room where Pen was lamenting over her many griefs. "The bishop is after you. Geordie's seen him and Bradstock, too. And I feel quite certain that all of 'em will be at Spilsborough now."
"I won't go," sniffed Pen.
"Oh, but you must," said Bob. "You can't be caught here now by the whole lot."
"I don't seem to care," said Penelope.
"Oh, what rot!" cried Bob. "You won't break down now, Pen, just in the middle of the game. I mean in the middle of your idea. Just think how they'll crow over you and the baby."
That roused Penelope.
"They—they sha'n't!"
"Well, they will, unless you've got the one you are married to here," said Bob. "Or are you going to tell me who it is?"