As Archie approached his suite on the following afternoon he heard through the closed door the drone of a gruff male voice; and, going in, discovered Lucille in the company of his brother-in-law. Lucille, Archie thought, was looking a trifle fatigued. Bill, on the other hand, was in great shape. His eyes were shining, and his face looked so like that of a stuffed frog that Archie had no difficulty in gathering that he had been lecturing on the subject of his latest enslaver.
“Hallo, Bill, old crumpet!” he said.
“Hallo, Archie!”
“I’m so glad you’ve come,” said Lucille. “Bill is telling me all about Spectatia.”
“Who?”
“Spectatia. The girl, you know. Her name is Spectatia Huskisson.”
“It can’t be!” said Archie, incredulously.
“Why not?” growled Bill.
“Well, how could it?” said Archie, appealing to him as a reasonable man. “I mean to say! Spectatia Huskisson! I gravely doubt whether there is such a name.”
“What’s wrong with it?” demanded the incensed Bill. “It’s a darned sight better name than Archibald Moffam.”