“And blow the whole house to pieces!” said Mrs. Hignett tartly. She had begun to revise her original estimate of this girl. To her, Windles was sacred, and anyone who went about shooting holes in it forfeited her esteem.
“Shall I go for the police?” said Billie. “I could bring them back in ten minutes in the car.”
“Certainly not!” said Mr. Bennett. “My daughter gadding about all over the countryside in an automobile at this time of night!”
“If you think I ought not to go alone, I could take Bream.”
“Where is Bream?” said Mr. Mortimer.
The odd fact that Bream was not among those present suddenly presented itself to the company.
“Where can he be?” said Billie.
Jane Hubbard laughed the wholesome, indulgent laugh of one who is broad-minded enough to see the humour of the situation even when the joke is at her expense.
“What a silly girl I am!” she said. “I do believe that was Bream I shot at upstairs. How foolish of me making a mistake like that!”
“You shot my only son!” cried Mr. Mortimer.