"By Jove!" he said. "That's something off my mind! By George, I feel like a two-year-old. I say, you're a dashed good sort, Pitt."
"You flatter me," said Jimmy. "I strive to please."
"I say, Pitt, that yarn you told us just now—the bet, and all that. Honestly, you don't mean to say that was true, was it? I mean—By Jove! I've got an idea."
"We live in stirring times!"
"Did you say your actor pal's name was Mifflin?" He broke off suddenly before Jimmy could answer. "Great Scott!" he whispered. "What's that! Good lord! Somebody's coming!"
He dived behind the curtain, like a rabbit. The drapery had only just ceased to shake when the door opened, and Sir Thomas Blunt walked in.
CHAPTER XXVI — STIRRING TIMES FOR SIR THOMAS
For a man whose intentions toward the jewels and their owner were so innocent, and even benevolent, Jimmy was in a singularly compromising position. It would have been difficult even under more favorable conditions to have explained to Sir Thomas's satisfaction his presence in the dressing-room. As things stood, it was even harder, for his lordship's last action before seeking cover had been to fling the necklace from him like a burning coal. For the second time in ten minutes, it had fallen to the carpet, and it was just as Jimmy straightened himself after picking it up that Sir Thomas got a full view of him.