“It is a young man called Fisk,” she said. “David Varens says he is one of the students and you would know him,” she turned to Mrs. Gainsborough. “He is quite himself again, but he was stunned for the moment and I don’t think he knew where he was. He was talking a great deal in a very noisy way about blood, and there wasn’t a scratch on him! I have telephoned for the doctor to make quite sure he is all right, though he says he can go home. Do you know anything of him?”
“Yes, I do,” said Mrs. Gainsborough, “and if he is talking about blood you may be sure he is quite well. He thinks of very little else; it is almost a pity in some ways if he hasn’t lost any. We all know about him and he is the greatest nuisance and trouble to my husband. How did it happen?”
“Joseph was driving Mr. Varens back to tea here and the young man came out from behind some cart when they were crossing the road. He was not thinking where he was going and walked right into the car; but fortunately it was hardly moving.”
“Dear me, what a shock it must have given him!” said Susie.
“Have you got brandy in the house?” asked Mrs. Abel.
“Of course we have, thank you,” Mrs. Price was greatly offended at the suggestion of such incompleteness in a perfect establishment. As bad as asking King George whether he kept a hair brush. “That is not the point. Do you mean to say that he is dangerous, Mrs. Gainsborough?”
“Not more than a flying soda-water bottle,” she answered nervously. The little contretemps about the brandy had flurried her and probably suggested the comparison.
“I think Teresa mentioned him once,” said Susie, who always came to the rescue at any hint of dispute. “A Communist, isn’t he?”
“A very determined one,” said Mrs. Vachell.
“What nonsense!” Mrs. Price exclaimed. “A great many of my relations are Communists and I am quite sure this young man doesn’t look like one. He must be pretending.” Joseph came in just then.