Suddenly I heard my housekeeper's step on the verandah behind me. She always walks straight through the study if she gets no answer to her knock.
"Miss Oliphant," she announced.
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
"Miss Oliphant! Where?"
"In the drawing-room, sir."
In five seconds I was through the study and half-way downstairs. The drawing-room is a cool, low-ceilinged apartment at the farther end of the house. It has windows on two of its sides, those to the north green with brushing leaves and a ferny bank, the others glazed doors that that morning stood wide open. As I entered I heard mingled laughter.
They both stood there.
They were silhouetted against the sunny opening, laughing like a couple of children. Perhaps the joke was that Julia only had been announced. I stood watching them for a moment; then I advanced.
"Good morning," I said.
Julia gave a swift turn. The next moment she had pushed Derry forward.